Black Wolf - One Shots
by DannyBlack70
Summary: A series of One Shots in the Black Wolf Rises universe detailing certain 'what ifs'. Each chapter is an individual branch off of the parent story 'Black Wolf Rises'.
1. Stained Red

**So this was originally individual stories, but I decided to club them all together for ease.**

 **We start with Stained Red, a short one shot detailing what would have happened if Torrhen had stayed with Robb rather than going to Harrenhal. If you're new to this series, please go and read Black Wolf Rises up to chapter twenty first (Series 1 and 2) and you'll be caught up on the character.**

* * *

The bedding ceremony of Edmure Tully and Roslin Frey had been performed, and Torrhen was standing with his mother laughing about Edmure's sudden found happiness at his nuptials as in the corner of his eye, Torrhen saw Robb and Talisa kiss. He was happy for them, and although he wished Robb had kept to his oath the promise of a little niece or nephew had finally warmed him to Talisa. He smiled at the pair when he noticed Black Walder closing the doors to the Hall. The music stopped, and Catelyn was looking up at the musicians in suspicion.

"Drink another mother, enjoy yourself." Torrhen exclaimed, not hearing the music and grabbing her another goblet.

"The music…" Catelyn whispered, but said no more as she took the cup. Torrhen started listening though and heard the song. The Rains of Castamere. Concerned he looked up at the High Table as Lord Walder held his hand up and the music stopped.

"Your Grace." He said loudly from the head table. Robb turned around and walked forwards to him smiling, as Torrhen sat down next to his Queen, and Catelyn sat next to Roose Bolton. "I feel I've been remiss in my duties. I've given you meat and wine and music, but I haven't shown you the hospitality you deserve, my king has married and I owe my new queen a wedding gift."

Suddenly Catelyn stood up and slapped Roose Bolton roughly round the face. "Robb!" She cried. Roose Bolton ran off as Robb turned round to her, and Torrhen was too late to see Lame Lothar Frey come over and stab Talisa five times in the belly.

"NO!" Torrhen screamed, jumping up and tackling Lothar to the floor, feeling the knife that had his queens blood on entering his side. Ignoring the pain, Torrhen grabbed the Freys hand and twisted, snapping it with a booming crack. He then pulled the knife out of his own side and turned it on Lothar, jamming it in the crippled Frey's eye again and again, ignoring the amount of blood that was streaming out of his face and spitting up at Torrhen. He felt two more sharp stabs of pain after killing Lothar, as two crossbow bolts pierced his back. Falling to the floor, he attempted to crawl over to Talisa, who was lying on her back, struggling to comprehend what was happening as blood poured from her stomach. Torrhen grunted in agony as another bolt pierced him in the leg. He stopped moving, seeing the madness around him.

The Northerners were being slaughtered, Robb had been hit three times with crossbows as well and had fallen to the floor, Catelyn was nowhere to be scene and blood was flowing on the floors. The sounds of stabbing and screaming filled the room and Torrhen felt himself roughly hoisted up by Black Walder, who proceeded to stab him no less than seven times in quick succession. Torrhen felt his sight leave him, and as the knife pierced his heart, his last thoughts were overpowered by the sound of his mother screaming.

* * *

The murder died down, and Robb crawled over to Talisa, trying to stand but failing. Picking her up in his arms he cradled her head, his heart breaking at the sight of her vacant expression. He looked over at Torrhen's body, and a tear left his eye at the sight of his brother's dead body.

"The King in the North arises." Lord Walder mocked. Catelyn noticed his young Frey wife under the table, and grabbed a knife before leading her by her hair out so Walder Frey could see.

"Lord Walder! Lord Walder, enough!" She shouted, holding the knife to Lady Frey's throat. "Let it end! Please." She looked over to her two boys, one dead, one cradling his dead wife and unborn baby. "You've already killed one of my sons. Spare Robb, spare my first son. Let him go and I swear that we will forget this, I swear it by the old gods and new. We will take no vengeance."

"You already swore me one oath right here in my castle." Walder Frey snapped. "You swore by all the gods your son would marry my daughter!"

"Take me for a hostage, but let Robb go." She screamed. "Robb, get up. Get up and walk out. Please! Please!"

"And why would I let him do that?" Lord Walder asked.

"On my honour as a Tully, on my honour as a Stark, let him go or I will cut your wife's throat!" She screamed.

Lord Walder looked at her intently, as Robb stood up painfully and told her dryly. "I'll find another."

She knew that they would die at that moment, and Robb's weary voice made that even more clear when he called. "Mother."

Roose Bolton walked back at that moment and grabbed Robb by the shoulder. "The Lannisters send their regards." He said venomously, as he punched his blade into Robb's heart. The King in the North fell to his knees, and dropped to the floor, dead.

Catelyn let out a chilling cry at the sight of her dead son, and slit the wife of Walder Frey's throat, throwing her to the floor she stood, dead inside staring at the sight of her two boys, her firstborn and her second son, dead on the ground with blood pouring out of them. She didn't even care when Black Walder came up behind her and slit her own throat.

* * *

Sansa's heart had broken. Her mother, and her two oldest brothers slaughtered at the hands of her husband's family. Tyrion was currently trying to make her feel better, but nothing could stop her hating him and his entire family. She could almost laugh at him saying he could help her, or she would have if she wasn't so distraught.

"I lie awake all night staring at the canopy thinking about how they died." Sansa told him, tears stinging her eyes.

"I could get you essence of nightshade to help you sleep." Tyrion offered.

"Do you know what they did to my brother? How they sewed his direwolf's head onto his body?" She asked him. "My twin, Torrhen, they burned his body so his skin blackened and then took him off, parading him around as a true 'Black Wolf." She spat. "And my mother, they say they cut her throat to the bone and threw her body in the river."

"What happened to your family was a terrible crime." Tyrion told her. "I didn't know your brother, he seemed like a good man, but I didn't know him. Your twin was fierce from what I understand, my Father respected him but I didn't really know him either. Your mother, on the other hand, I admired her. She wanted to have me executed, but I admired her. She was a strong woman. And she was fierce when it came to protecting her children." He tried to comfort her. "Sansa. Your mother would want you to carry on, you know it's true."

"Will you pardon me, my lord? I'd like to visit the godswood." Sansa choked, standing.

"Of course. Of course." Tyrion said. "Prayer can be helpful, I hear."

"I don't pray anymore." Sansa told him. "It's the only place I can go where people don't talk to me."


	2. The Watchers on the Wall

**Another What-If to go with my Black Wolf story. This time it's a what if Torrhen stayed in the North but went to the Wall instead of Meereen.**

 **If you haven't already, please go and have a read of my story Black Wolf Rises, as this story leaves that one at about chapter 31, as Torrhen doesn't plan to go to Meereen at all. I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

They had ridden hard for days and nights upon end, and finally they were within touching distance of The Wall. It was a magnificent sight, Torrhen thought, with the imposing structure gleaming in the moonlight. On closer inspection though Torrhen noticed that Castle Black seemed to be ablaze, the faint noises of battle could be heard from the castle.

"Lord Umber! Raise the banners and form the men up. We fight to defend Castle Black! Lady Mormont! Have some men stay here to keep my sister and mother away from the battle" Torrhen shouted.

"No! I can fight!" Arya shouted stubbornly.

"Arya Stark!" Catelyn said sternly. "You stay with me."

"But Tor!" Arya protested, but Torrhen shook his head.

"Lady Mormont, please, take Balerion too, I don't want him being unable to move in the fight."

Mormont and Umber did as they were commanded, and those not staying behind rode fast towards the castle, with Stark, Mormont and Umber banners at the forefront. As they reached the castle they heard a horn blast once.

"With me men! Defend the Wall!" Torrhen screamed, and dismounted his horse knowing full well he wouldn't have much room to ride, and he waited for his men to race into the castle. The roar went up, and the gates burst open and in poured the Northerners before Torrhen. He noticed a wildling woman with red hair shooting arrow after arrow into the castle from one of the battlements, and Torrhen quickly got his bow ready, nocked an arrow and loosed it directly into the back of her skull. Pouring through he saw that they had made all the difference, 5,000 Northerners filled up the castle courtyard putting all of the wildlings to the sword. Torrhen strode in with Maege and the Greatjon by his side, cutting down any Wildling that got in their way. A bearded red head let out a roar and charged them.

"That fuck? He's mine." The Greatjon growled, and the two beasts danced around each other, clashing steel again and again. Torrhen lost track of their fight as a Wildling rushed at him. He parried the attack and punched the wildling in the face, stunning him, before he thrust his sword deep into the wildlings bowels. Grinning at the wildlings clear agony he slowly twisted his sword, before pulling it out with a sharp tug, sending blood, guts and shit flying out from the man. Maege had bashed in the head of a Thenn with her mace, and the Greatjon had prevailed against the red head only losing a hand in the process, roaring as he held the head up in the air triumphantly.

Torrhen returned to the battle, noticing a rather large Thenn smash a Nights Watch man's face into an anvil, he went to go and help but a couple of Northern soldiers beat him too it, sticking the Thenn with pikes and lifting him away from the black brother, parading him around the castle when it turned out he was the last one standing. They threw him to the floor in front of Torrhen.

"Why are you attacking?" Torrhen ordered him to answer.

"Fuck you kneeler." The man spat, and Torrhen, out of patience, stabbed him through the throat, letting the man splutter up blood before he drew back his sword and letting him die. Torrhen looked around before a voice he hadn't heard in a long time caught his attention.

"Tor?"

Spinning back to the anvil, the man that his men had saved had been Jon. Gasping in delight he rushed towards the man he had recently learned was actually his cousin and hugged him fiercely.

"Jon! Thank the Gods you're alive." Torrhen whispered.

"I thought you were dead, I thought you were all dead." Jon whispered back, clinging on to Torrhen. They held each other for a few more moments, and when they broke apart Torrhen turned back into King Torrhen.

"You two." He pointed at a couple of Umber soldiers. "One of you take Lord Umber to the Maester to be treated, the other go and get my mother and sister." The two nodded, and went about their duties.

"There's still 100,000 Wildlings North of the wall Tor." Jon said, looking around at the carnage left in Castle Black. "I need to go back up the wall, martial those defences."

"There's no need by the looks of it." Torrhen said, looking up at the cage coming down the wall again. He joined Jon at the platform against the wall, and waited as Jon greeted the men that stepped out.

"They've retreated, for now." The longer haired man said gloomily. "What happened down here."

"My brother came." Jon told him, missing Torrhen's small wince at the word.

"Brother? I thought they were all dead."

"I'm very much alive thank you." Torrhen told him. "How long will they be before coming back?"

"They'll try and hit us at night again, we have a day." Jon said.

"Then tell me what you would have us do and my men will do their part." Torrhen told him.

"We need to burn all the bodies." Jon said glumly, and Torrhen nodded, ordering the men to gather all the dead into the courtyard for a large pyre.

Torrhen was the one to carry the woman he had killed down. He unceremoniously dumped the body onto the gathering pile, and turned away to walk to the rooms that Jon had offered him, Cat and Arya. He didn't see Jon walk over to the body, and caress her face gently.

* * *

Torrhen woke up at Castle Black to find Arya curled up next to him on the bed, and his mother brushing her hair at the mirror. Gently making sure to not nudge Arya he got up and put his armour and cloak back on.

"Morning mother." He said politely.

"Good morning _son_." She said sharply. She hadn't been happy when Torrhen announced his plans to go to the wall, and had clearly seen Jon the night before.

"I presume you've seen Jon then."

"Yes." She snapped.

"You shouldn't be too hard on…"

"King or not, you cannot tell me how I should be with that boy." Cat snapped. Torrhen was about to retort when the door burst open to reveal an unusually fat member of the Nights Watch.

"I'm so sorry, Your Grace, forgive me for bursting in but… but it's Jon." The lad said.

"Jon? What about him?" Torrhen asked.

"He's gone to assassinate Mance Rayder!" The lad panted.

"Fuck! Open the gate, I'll ride out to get him." Torrhen swore, grabbing his sword he rushed past the fat man, and roused his army. It took time to get people ready and mounted, but when it was done 500 men rode in a formation through the gate, only to get to the forest to notice another mounted army swarming the Wildling encampment, and they were wearing the sigil Torrhen had last seen at Storms End, the flaming stag of Stannis Baratheon.

Torrhen rode with 5 men ahead of the others and came across Stannis, his hand, Jon and a few Wildlings in discussion.

"I'm not here to slaughter beat dogs." Stannis was saying, but Torrhen interrupted them.

"Now that's unfair, Stannis Baratheon." Torrhen said, dismounting with his men and joining the discussion. "Dogs have much better manners."

"Torrhen Stark." Stannis turned and said unemotionally. "I heard you were dead."

"I heard you were dead too." Torrhen told him.

"You're speaking to the one…" Davos started.

"I know who I'm speaking to Ser Davos, isn't it? I'm speaking to a kinslayer." Torrhen snapped, putting his hand on his sword pommel. "What are you doing so far North?"

"This is where the true war lies, I'm here to do my kingly duty to the Nights Watch." Stannis said coldly.

"As am I, we seem to have many kings here." Torrhen remarked.

"Only the one king, a wildling and a usurper." Stannis snarled. Torrhen flexed his fingers on his sword.

"I'd think carefully of what you were saying if I were you." Torrhen growled. "I have 5,000 men that will stop you getting close to my Kingdom."

"Why are you fighting each other?" Jon said exasperatedly.

"I find it strange that a man of the Nights Watch is within a Wildling camp." Stannis remarked, turning to Jon.

"He came to kill the King Beyond the Wall, because he's a fool." Torrhen said, clipping Jon around the ear. "Take Mance Rayder and put him in irons, I'll question him myself. Leave the kinslayer and his men north of the wall."

"With all due respect, Your Grace." Jon said to Torrhen. "The Nights Watch does not take part in the realms conflicts. It is not your place to dictate who we shelter."

"We shall stay in Castle Black." Stannis told him. Torrhen didn't like that.

"He can stay at the wall, but I'll be with my army. I will not have him in the North under any circumstances." Torrhen snarled, glaring daggers at Stannis.

"You have nerve boy." Stannis said.

"Call me boy again." Torrhen growled, squaring up to Stannis, until Jon got in between them.

"Tor, pick your enemies. This isn't the true fight; the real enemy are out there." Jon said ominously, looking out towards the North.


	3. Growing Strong

**So, this has been an idea I've had in my head for absolutely ages. The whole point of Black Wolf Rises is that it follows the show, and that every decision will still lead to roughly the same path. Well this is a story negating that rule completely. It's a one shot detailing what would have happened had Robb married Margaery.**

 **I don't own anything other than Torrhen. Everything else belongs to Dan, Dave and George**

* * *

Catelyn was still under guard in her tent. She wished that Robb could see why she had no other choice but to let the Kingslayer go, but Robb was so focused on the war and that Volantene that he almost seemed to not care about the girls.

The tent opened, and Catelyn was surprised to see the last person she expected. "Robb." She breathed emotionally.

"I'm not here for you, I'm here to give you this." Robb said shortly, handing her a letter. Reading it, Catelyn felt tears well up in her eyes.

"They're safe? Everyone is safe?" She cried.

"Torrhen took a party of Reachmen and liberated the North without my orders." Robb told her.

"Robb, it worked out well, he was in Highgarden and you had already given your consent for a betrothal." Catelyn said.

"I know that." Robb said, sitting down. "I'm grateful the boys are ok, truly I am. I just can't believe Torrhen was the one to do that."

"He's been groomed to lead armies; you've been groomed to lead the entire North." Catelyn said, placing a hand on his. "This was his role." Reading the letter again she began taking in every single word.

"Once Torrhen is back I'm sending you to Winterfell, you will remain there until the war is over and Maester Luwin will be in charge. You will be confined to the keep and won't run my household." Robb ordered, and Cat looked at him, shocked.

"I've been running Winterfell with your Father ever since we took you home!" Cat argued, raising her voice.

"That was before you betrayed me! Why would I trust you to run my castle when you set my prisoners free?" Robb asked, also beginning to shout. He sighed softly, and then changed the subject to the main thing that had been on his mind. "I mean to marry the Lady Talisa."

Catelyn looked at him, shocked. "Are you really so stupid?"

"Careful Mother." Robb warned.

"No, you can lock me up for what I've done all you like. You would lose 80,000 men! You would kill every man fighting in your name!" Catelyn shouted. "You would become despised, and for what?"

"We lay together! I have to marry her!" Robb argued. Catelyn scoffed.

"Your Father lay with another woman while we were married. You were barely betrothed." She said coldly. "No, you will tell her to leave if you want to win the war, then ride for Highgarden immediately and wed and bed the Tyrell girl."

"Mother…"

"No!" She shrieked. "I may be a prisoner but I am still your mother! And I will knock some sense into you if needs be!"

Robb sighed, weighing up the options before he placed his head in his hands. "80,000 men."

"More than the Lannisters have, more than Stannis Baratheon has. The Reach have the biggest army, don't throw it away." Cat said, staring intently at her son. Many moments passed in silence, until Robb stood, kicked out at a chair and stormed off, and Cat hoped that he had seen sense.

* * *

The ride from Seagard to Riverrun was straightforward. Torrhen enjoyed dragging Theon Greyjoy behind him Dothraki style, and the conversation with his future father in law was happy. He was surprised to see Tyrell banners fluttering on the battlements of the castle next to Stark and Tully ones though. Robb was there in the courtyard to greet him.

"Brother."

"Your Grace." Torrhen said, dismounting and dragging Theon to Robb. "Winterfell is yours once more, I have executed Yara Greyjoy, and as your request I have brought you Theon Greyjoy."

The people gathered in the courtyard began murmuring "Traitor." But Robb held up his hand to silence them.

"You have done well brother. May I introduce you to Queen Margaery, my bride." Robb announced, and Torrhen raised an eyebrow.

"Brother!" Margaery exclaimed, reaching for a hug. "How good to see you again."

"Your Grace." Torrhen bowed his head to his Queen. "I am sorry to have missed the wedding."

"It was a rushed affair." Robb said. Now, let us eat, you must be hungry! Someone throw the traitor in the cells, I'll deal with him in the morning."

They went off to the feast, but Torrhen couldn't keep his eyes away from the Forrester table. Mira had joined Margaery, and was currently sat with her father and brother. He was shaken out of his staring by Robb.

"I thought you were betrothed to the other one." He smirked.

"I am, but…"

"I understand, it's love." Robb sighed. "Truth is I love Margaery not, but a woman from Volantis."

"When did that happen?" Torrhen asked, surprised.

"At Oxcross, she was helping the injured. Mother persuaded me to set her aside, but I can't stop thinking about her, even my wedding night I imagined Talisa." Robb said quietly.

"Shh." Torrhen said, looking over at Margaery. "You did the right thing though Robb, an alliance with the Reach is worth more than whatever your personal feelings are."

"I understand, but it's not the same."

"Lady Margaery is a fine woman, a strong woman. She'll keep you in line." Torrhen smirked.

"Perhaps. Go on, talk to her." Robb nodded, as Torrhen noticed Mira looking up at him. Torrhen rose, and gestured to a doorway out of the Hall, hoping that she followed him.

* * *

Mira did follow him, and the pair found themselves fiercely making out against a wall. It went on for a few moments before Mira pulled herself away.

"We shouldn't be doing this." She said.

"I'm going to talk to your father tonight, hopefully he will agree to change the betrothal. I want you Mira, I've always wanted you." Torrhen said passionately, kissing Mira again.

"Oh Tor." Mira sighed, and continued kissing him until a coughing from behind them stopped them in their tracks. Rodrik was stood there, obviously checking up on his sister.

"Well well well, what do I see here." He grinned.

"Rodrik, it's not what…"

"It's exactly what it looks like dear sister." Rodrik chuckled. "Don't worry, I won't tell Father… yet." He laughed as he walked off. Mira cursed.

"We need to talk to him now." She sighed.

"We? I'm happy to…"

"No I need to explain it to him." Mira smiled shyly. Torrhen let her lead the way to her father, who was enjoying some ale.

"Father. I need to speak with you." Mira said. "Privately."

Gregor looked concerned, but went with the pair into a private room. "What is it Mira?"

"Father, I know you had your heart set on Torrhen marrying Talia, but…"

"You both want to change the deal so that you can marry one another." Gregor finished for her. "I'm not blind sweetling, I saw the way you both looked at one another."

Torrhen felt like he had to add something. "I know we agreed on Talia marrying me, but that was before I thought I'd ever see Mira again, and once we met again everything fell back into place."

Gregor sighed. "Talia will be crushed, but I suppose so long as the terms remain the same and Mira really wants this, I can see no reason to say no."

Torrhen grinned widely, and Mira wrapped her father in a huge hug. "Thank you father!"

"We shall wait until you're 16 though." Gregor said sternly.

"Of course." Mira nodded.

"Well then, so long as King Robb agrees, we can make it official!" Gregor grinned. "Come, share a drink with us My Prince."

* * *

The day after the festivities, plans were drawn up. It was decided that half of the Tyrell forces would march on Casterly Rock, led by Ser Loras, making use of the goat path that Grey Wind had discovered before, while the other half would be led by Randyll Tarly, and travel with the bulk of the Northern/Riverland forces towards King's Landing, where Tywin was holed up. The ladies were staying at Riverrun, and once again Torrhen was having to say goodbye to Mira.

He was living up to his new name as well, atop a sleek black horse with Balerion at his side and his new sigil flying behind him. The Black Wolf was seated at the head of the army, with Robb, Lady Maege, Lord Bolton, Lord Karstark and the Greatjon there too. The war would be decided with the next battle, Torrhen knew, and he was going to do his damnest to make sure they won.

They had split the force again as they had reached the Gods Eye, 40,000 Tyrell soldiers were now camped along the Gold Road, to make sure that no Lannister Army could go to the aid of Casterly Rock, and when that battle had been fought word would be sent to the forces currently camped at Harrenhal, and both forces would march on King's Landing so they could attack from both sides.

They had been at Harrenhal for around three weeks. Tyrell forces had taken Lannisport and were currently besieging Casterly Rock, and Robb had received word that Tywin Lannister's army was on the move as soon as word had reached the capital. Torrhen was practicing his archery when an excited Robb came rushing down.

"Tor! This is it!" He exclaimed, thrusting a raven message into Torrhen's free hand. Placing his bow on the floor Torrhen read the message, noting the broken seal of House Tarly.

 _The Golden Lion is dead, we march._

"Tywin is dead?" Torrhen asked, looking up at Robb for confirmation, the King just nodded, and Torrhen burst into a grin.

"This is it, we're going to get Sansa back." Torrhen grinned wildly.

"Aye we are. Go and gather your things, we march as soon as we are able." Robb commanded, and Torrhen nodded, immediately running to his chambers to prepare.

* * *

"WE'RE THROUGH MEN! TO THE RED KEEP!" Torrhen screamed, and the entire army bellowed out a cheer as they rushed through the gates. Robb had received a nasty injury to his shoulder in the fighting at the gates and had been pulled back by Dacey Mormont, so Torrhen was left as the Stark. Bursting through the broken gates Torrhen ducked as a sword came straight for his head, and cut upwards with his sword, spilling the innards of his foe. The defending forces were soon overwhelmed, and it didn't take long for Robb's army to burst into the Red Keep.

Torrhen, along with both Umbers, Maege Mormont and Rodrik Forrester threw open the doors to the Throne Room, where they found Joffrey, and 4 of his Kingsguard.

"Your tyranny is over, Joffrey Waters. Step down from the Throne and come quietly." Torrhen ordered. Joffrey just laughed.

"I am the King, not a bastard, a king!" He screeched, unsheathing his sword. "Kill them all!"

The Kingsguard moved forward, and each were intercepted by the men and woman Torrhen had brought with him, allowing the Stark to move forward venomously staring at Joffrey.

"If this is how you want to play it, fine." Torrhen snarled, swirling his sword in anticipation. "You were too scared in Winterfell to fight, now I shall kill you."

"It's a pity you were too late to save your whore sister." Joffrey sneered, nodding up towards the gallery. Torrhen followed the gesture, and screamed in agony as he saw Sansa hanging from the balcony, clearly dead.

Tears were beginning to fill his eyes, but the sound of Joffrey's laughter brought anger to his mind. He advanced on Joffrey like a wolf stalking his prey.

"Now there is no reason not to kill you." Torrhen snarled, and Joffrey stopped laughing and looked scared, nervously holding up his sword.

"You… you won't kill me; I am the KING!" He screeched, only for Torrhen to laugh.

"You'll be king of the headless men when I'm through with you."

"King of your father?" Joffrey sneered, and Torrhen had had enough. He swung his sword forward, clashing with the defending Joffrey. Torrhen would admit, it took longer than he had expected to break through, as Joffrey parried every attack. Clash after clash of swords followed, until Torrhen saw an opening in Joffrey's legs and stabbed. The blonde fell to the ground screaming in agony, and Torrhen looked around to see Rodrik, and all 4 Kingsguard dead on the floor. Bolstered by the Northerners still alive moving to his side, Torrhen kicked Hearteater out of Joffrey's hands.

"Hold him." Torrhen ordered, and Maege gathered a stool while the Greatjon and the Smalljon grabbed Joffrey, placing his neck on the stool. "Joffrey Waters. For the crimes of murder, tyranny, and being an enormous cunt, In the name of Robb, of the House Stark. King of Winter and Lord of Winterfell, I, Torrhen of the House Stark, Prince of Winter and Lord of Moat Cailin do sentence you to die. Will you speak a final word?" Torrhen asked bitterly.

"You can't do this. I am the King!" Joffrey cried out.

"You're shit at dying." Torrhen growled, and swung his sword, separating the tyrant's head from his body. Finally, it was over, and Torrhen rushed over to cut Sansa down, and he sat there crying, cradling his twin in his arms until Robb arrived in the Throne Room and joined him.

* * *

 **Two Years Later**

The Godswood at Moat Cailin wasn't as nice as the one in Winterfell, but a newly planted Weirwood tree stood growing in the small garden. Torrhen and Robb were stood by the small tree, as all Torrhen's remaining family, the Forresters and various friends stood in the Godswood with their lanterns. Torrhen grinned as he saw Arya and Bran bickering with one another, and Rickon laughing to himself while their Mother scolded the pair. He looked over fondly as Margaery held baby Edwyle in her arms, Torrhen's nephew having been born 4 months prior.

Finally, he saw her. Mira being brought to the small Weirwood tree by her father, wearing a Forrester cloak made by Talia. They stopped a few paces before Torrhen and Robb, as Robb walked up to them.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" The King asked loudly.

"Mira, of the House Forrester, comes here to be wed." Gregor stated. "A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?"

Torrhen stepped forwards now, to stand beside his brother. "Torrhen, of the House Stark. Prince of Winter and Lord of Moat Cailin. Who gives her?"

"Lord Gregor, of House Forrester." Gregor said.

"Lady Mira, will you take this man?" Robb asked her.

"I take this man." Mira said, smiling softly at Torrhen, who offered his hand out to her. She took it, and they turned towards the small Weirwood tree and knelt before it.

' _Sansa, I hope you're proud of me. I love you._ ' He thought, not wanting to say a prayer for any other deity other than his sister. Finally, both were finished and they rose to face the crowd. Torrhen took off Mira's Forrester cloak, and walked over to hand it to Ethan, and then went to collect the Stark cloak with a black Direwolf from his mother, Torrhen's personal sigil, and wrapped that cloak around Mira's shoulders.

"Now then, let's go into the brand new Great Hall of Moat Cailin and feast this union!" Torrhen announced, to the applause of the crowd.

Moat Cailin had been completely revitalised, and was now strong on all sides. Torrhen was now in the process of trying to make the land beside it able to be lived on, and with the help of Howland Reed was beginning plans to create some small villages. The Great Hall wasn't as big as Winterfell's, but was still impressive, and the castle was growing every day with more and more repairs being made.

Robb came over to Torrhen sometime during the feast, with a raven that had been relayed from Winterfell, confused, Torrhen saw the black, Night's Watch seal that had been broken, and opened the letter from Jon.

 _The Walkers have returned; The Watch needs aid. Send all the help you can get._


	4. Purple Scars

**As requested by jean d'arc, here is a one-shot of the Purple Wedding.**

 **Any other Black Wolf Rises one-shot requests are welcomed in either reviews or pm's, but for now I hope you all enjoy this!**

 **I own nothing but Torrhen Stark.**

* * *

Torrhen rode through the gates of Harrenhal with a new-found positivity. All they needed to do now was free Sansa from King's Landing and they could go home, hole up in the North and beat back any army that came for them. Arya was clearly nervous about being back in Harrenhal after her ordeals there a year ago, but she visibly relaxed once she saw the men garrisoning the castle wearing Stark armour.

"Prince Torrhen, welcome back!" The Greatjon boomed, making his way to Torrhen. Dismounting and helping Arya down, Torrhen shook the Greatjon's unmaimed hand.

"Aye, it's good to be back." Torrhen smiled. "Where is my Mother? I have a present for her."

"In her rooms, it seems she didn't want to get her hopes up again."

"Get her hopes up again?" Arya asked nosily.

"I heard word you were at Blackwood Vale so rode there." Torrhen explained, and Arya nodded in understanding. "Very well, I will go to her now, can you get the Maester to come and bring me parchment for a raven message. I need to get word to Robb."

"At once My Prince." The Greatjon bowed. "Princess."

Arya looked furiously up at Torrhen. "Princess? I'm not a Princess!"

Laughing, Torrhen started walking towards Cat's chambers. "You are now little sister; Robb is King so you are a Princess."

"Shit." She swore under her breath, causing Torrhen to laugh even more.

"None of that with Mother." He warned.

They continued their jovial bickering as they rose the tower to reach Catelyn's rooms, and Torrhen stopped Arya before going in.

"Why are you stopping?" Arya asked.

"I want to surprise her. Let me in first, and come in once I say I found something that belongs to her." Torrhen said. Arya nodded, and Torrhen walked into the room. Cat was sewing at the window. "Mother."

"Tor, you're back." Catelyn acknowledged, putting her sewing down and rising to meet him. Looking around she saw no Arya, and her face fell. "No luck again?"

"I wouldn't say no luck. I did find something that belongs to you just west of Stoney Sept." Torrhen grinned, and moved aside so that Cat could have a clear view of the door. A moment passed and the door opened slowly, and in walked Arya sheepishly. Catelyn was confused for a minute.

"Why have you brought me a boy from…" She started angrily, before she looked into Arya's eyes. "Arya." She whispered.

"Hello Mother." Arya said, wringing her hands together. Catelyn leapt towards her daughter and brought her into a bone crushing hug.

"Arya, it's really you." Cat cried. Torrhen stood to one side, allowing his sister and mother to have their moment. They hugged for a moment before Cat pushed Arya into a chair and began fussing over every tiny detail. Torrhen stood laughing, until a knock on the door came. Opening it, he saw Maege Mormont.

"Lady Maege, what can we do for you?" Torrhen asked.

"The King has sent a message; he asks you to sneak into King's Landing and free Sansa. He can't see us getting close to the Capital as soon as he would hope."

Torrhen grinned, finally he would be able to free his twin. "Brilliant, ask the Greatjon to gather three of his stealthiest men to join me. I'll leave tonight."

"Tonight?" Cat asked from behind him. "I've just got one child back and another rushes off into the lion's jaws?"

Torrhen looked awkwardly at her. "I need to free Sansa, Mother. I just need to."

Cat softened at the thought of her daughter. "Just be careful, the Lannisters have the Tyrell's as allies now, the city will be filled with enemies."

Torrhen grimaced at the thought of the Tyrells, and instinctively placed his hand on his scar from Loras. "I'll be careful I swear it by all the Gods."

"Go, find Sansa." Cat smiled, giving him her blessing. Torrhen grinned, and after a final hug with them both, left to prepare.

* * *

Dressing like a common hedge knight allowed him easy access into the city, and after killing a low-ranking Lannister guard, he managed to sneak into the Red Keep while the three men that had travelled with him acquired a house in the city. Torrhen quickly learned a lot about the security in the castle after sticking to the patrols and duties of the man he'd killed, and it wasn't till two weeks later he managed to get the chance to wander.

He'd learnt that Lady Margaery's handmaidens had a corridor in Maegor's holdfast to themselves, and it was sheer luck that he entered the one belonging to Mira first time. He breathed in a sigh of relief as he noticed the familiar items belonging to her, and was about to nose through a book on her desk when the door opened and slammed quickly.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in here?" The voice of his dreams called. Torrhen turned around to see Mira holding a knife up to him. "I'll use this if I have to."

"Aye, I bet you will." Torrhen said, taking off the Lannister helmet he had commandeered. Mira gasped, dropping the knife.

"You… you shouldn't be here. If anybody finds out…" Mira exclaimed, worried.

"It's ok Mira, I've been here for weeks and nobody knows I'm here." Torrhen tried to soothe her.

"The spider will find out!"

"No he won't, I've made plans." Torrhen said. "I'm here for Sansa, and you if you want to come home."

Mira looked at him questioningly. "Lady Sansa can't just leave. She's married to the Imp."

Torrhen looked at Mira in a rage after hearing that. "She's married to who?"

Mira, understanding, came and soothed him by gently rubbing his arm. "It's ok, Lord Tyrion is looking after her."

"He's a Lannister." Torrhen spat.

"Hardly the worst of them." Mira countered. Torrhen sat down on her bed defeated.

"How am I going to get her out now?" He asked. Mira knelt in front of him.

"You'll find a way, maybe use the wedding?" She asked. Torrhen thought about it for a while, before coming up with a plan.

"How easily can you send ravens from here?" He asked her.

"Fairly, why?"

Torrhen just grinned.

* * *

Torrhen's plan was forming nicely, a slow stream of Northerners and Rivermen were infiltrating the city as commoners, ready to help Sansa escape. Torrhen and Mira were plotting together, helped by her closeness to Lady Margaery. It wasn't until a few weeks after his arrival though that he managed to spot his sister.

He was walking around in his full Lannister armour when he spotted her and a Lorathi walking in the gardens. After a moment of admiration for his sister, he pushed down his emotions and when he spotted his opportunity, he told his partner to head on, and walked up to her, stopping in front of the pair.

The Lorathi wasn't happy. "Move."

"Shae! That's rude." Sansa warned. "I'm sorry Ser, what can I do for you?" She said courteously.

Making sure nobody else was within hearing range, he opened his visor, and Sansa gasped in shock. Making sure she remained silent, he turned to her handmaiden. "Lady Sansa has been mugged, I need to escort her to her chambers. Inform Lord Tyrion." He told her. Shae looked questioningly at Sansa, who just nodded.

"He was called to an urgent small council meeting this morning." Sansa explained. "He may still be there."

Once Shae ran off, Torrhen let Sansa lead him back into the castle. After bypassing several guards, she finally shut the door and the twins embraced.

"Oh Tor! What are you doing here! It's far too dangerous!" She exclaimed.

"I'm here for you, Arya is safe at Harrenhal with Mother. Once we have you safe we're to hole up in the North. Let Robb win the war while we blockade the Neck." Torrhen explained. "The plan is all in place, we'll strike after the wedding."

Sansa looked questioningly. "I can't just leave now Tor."

"They forced you to marry a monster, you're a prisoner here Sansa." He pleaded. "Come with us, once we're at Moat Cailin they can't touch us."

Sansa looked thoughtful. "If they catch us…"

"They won't." Torrhen said defiantly. "Once we're past Harrenhal they'd need to take the castle anyway."

"Ok." Sansa nodded. "I'm under guard though for the entire wedding, how will you get to me?"

Torrhen grinned. "I'm on one of the side entrances to the right as you look at the main pavilion, sneak away and I'll meet you there." He hugged her tightly again. "I'm going to have to go now, or people will get suspicious."

"Tor wait!" Sansa said as he began to leave. Turning around, Sansa bowled into him again. "Thank you for coming for me." She whispered.

"Always." Tor smiled, kissing her head and departing the room.

* * *

The day of Joffrey's wedding arrived, and Torrhen was stood at his post with the guard he'd been partnered with for the majority of his time infiltrating the Capital. He thought on the plan. They had taken over a small street near the Dragon Gate, and Northerners and Rivermen had successfully turned the houses into ones with easily concealed spots, so if any guards came searching, weapons, armour and people could be easily hidden.

"Oi, Horas, stop daydreaming will ya." His partner said.

"Sorry Brett, minds wandering." He said, putting on a southern accent to keep his disguise. He was lucky the Lannisters wore helmets that covered his face.

"We gotta be sharp. Do our job well today and promotions could be comin' our way." Brett boasted.

At that moment a group of peasants came up to them. "Can we get past? I wanna see the new Queen!" One young woman exclaimed.

"Piss off will ya or you'll be feeling the back of my hand." Brett grunted, laughing as the woman took off the other way. "Bunch of fools."

"Aye." Torrhen said half-heartedly. Behind them, he heard the fluttering of the pigeons escaping the pie. Chuckling to himself about southerners and their strange customs, he turned to face the fleeing pigeons.

"I'll have some pigeon pie at my wedding." Brett exclaimed.

"Who's gunna marry you?" Torrhen laughed.

"Fuck off will ya." Brett chuckled. "I'll marry some maiden."

"You'll be lucky to get a 50-year-old widow." Torrhen muttered." His attention was gained by a commotion behind him.

" _Seize him, SEIZE HIM!_ " He heard, turning he spotted Sansa and a fool running towards them.

"Shit, there wasn't supposed to be guards." Ser Dontos swore.

"Oi, where are you taking her?" Brett asked, stepping in front of Torrhen. Ser Dontos stood, protectively in front of Sansa ready to fight unarmed, but Torrhen reacted quicker, bring out his sword and piercing the back of Brett's neck. The Lannister man gurgled blood, and dropped to the floor when Torrhen withdrew his weapon.

"I told you Ser Dontos, my brother is here for me." Sansa smiled.

"What happened?" Torrhen asked.

"Joffrey started choking on his wine." Sansa shrugged.

"And the fool?" Torrhen asked, eyeing Ser Dontos.

"Has been a friend to me." Sansa insisted. "He helped me escape, we've been plotting it for a while."

Thinking quickly, Torrhen sheathed his sword again, extending an arm to Ser Dontos. "Many thanks Ser."

"It's no trouble, Lady Sansa is very valu…" Ser Dontos was stopped in his words, as his fingers grasped at his throat where Torrhen's dagger had just entered. Looking at the Stark questioningly, he also dropped to the floor choking on blood. Sansa was horrified.

"What have you done!" She exclaimed. Torrhen just grabbed her wrist roughly.

"We have to go." He urged, dragging her along.

"He was a friend! He was helping me!" Sansa argued.

"He was helping himself! He wasn't clever enough to think of this on his own. Somebody wants you alive and in their grasp, that wasn't happening." Torrhen countered, running with Sansa.

They arrived at the house Torrhen had been staying at and barricaded the doors as bells began filling the city. Breathing heavily, Torrhen undid the Lannister armour and threw it in a corner. Sansa was rounding on him angrily.

"You kill a man trying to help me escape, and you bring me to a house in the city we are trying to escape? Why!" She asked.

Torrhen ran his hand through his hair. "Listen to the bells! Joffrey is dead! They'll claim it to be poison once they see you're missing and barricade the city. We won't be able to leave."

"Then what are we doing?" Sansa asked angrily.

"Waiting." Torrhen told her. "I have someone on the inside, they will let me know when the city opens the gates again, and then the men in this street will cause a riot. We'll use that to slip out unnoticed."

Sansa thought about it, and nodded. "Ok, I trust you. What are we doing till then?"

"Causing a nuisance wherever we can, but lying low." Torrhen said, offering her some water. "You need to change your hair too."

"My hair?" Sansa asked, horrified.

"You don't need to do an Arya and cut it all off, just some." Torrhen said. "And we'll need to get some dye, make it dark like mine. I'll get a man on that immediately."

* * *

Mira knew she was playing a dangerous game. The weeks after Joffrey's death were nervy, but Margaery kept on sending food and toys to the orphanages around the city. Some of the food however she kept siphoned off and gave it to Torrhen when she could. She often visited him, making sure nobody followed her. Her first visit was the worst, as she brought news of the so called 'Red Wedding' in which Torrhen's brother Robb had been murdered at their uncle's wedding. The Northerners were now holed up in Harrenhal, and Tywin Lannister hadn't made a move yet. Torrhen and Sansa both broke down at the news, and while Sansa still cried occasionally, she noticed Torrhen only had rage in his eyes.

She was sat in the small kitchen of the house they had commandeered, and Mira was bringing more news.

"The trial by combat went ahead, and both Oberyn Martell and the Mountain died. Lord Tyrion has been sentenced to death." Mira said.

"We can use that." Torrhen said, unmoved by the fate of the little man. "Create a riot at the execution, claim it's because the killing is unjust."

"Yes." Mira said. "Just be careful, the guards are still on high alert, it's a miracle you've lasted this long unseen…"

There was a loud knock on the door, and immediately Torrhen and the few guards in this house withdrew their swords. Sansa moved into a corner, remaining hidden as best she could which was easier with her now brunette hair. One of the men opened the door, and Torrhen saw the brunette hair and green dress of a Tyrell.

"Let her in, but only her." He ordered, and in strode Margaery Tyrell.

"Lady Margaery!" Mira exclaimed. "I…"

"Didn't expect to see me?" Margaery finished for her. "I bet. Be grateful Varys told me of your little adventures, and not Cersei Lannister."

"Why are you here?" Torrhen asked, eyes narrowing.

"Now now there's no need for hostilities, nobody knows I'm here." Margaery waved off.

"It's King's Landing, everyone knows everything." Torrhen scoffed.

"That may be, but anyway, I'm here for Mira." Margaery said. "Your belongings are being brought here. I've let it be known that this house is owned by the Tyrell's now, and that because I cannot trust you as a handmaiden, I've let you go."

"My Lady!" Mira exclaimed, wide eyed.

"It's for your own good." Margaery snapped. "You've been reckless with Lord Morgryn, and forcing poor Sera to let you in to the coronation feast… I like you Mira, but you're bringing too much attention to yourself. Lie low and escape with the Starks, but never come south of the Neck again."

"You treat her like that and she's been nothing but loyal." Torrhen growled.

"Be careful Stark." Margaery scowled back. "I know you're here, I know Sansa is here. It would be a shame if the Queen found out."

"It'd be a shame if your head made it back to the Red Keep, but your body didn't." Torrhen snarled.

"Tor, stop." Mira snapped. "My Lady, thank you."

"Lord Tyrion will be executed in three days. Do what you will." Margaery said. "But be gone from this place and quickly, once I know you've left word will have to reach the Small Council's ears." With that she left the house briskly.

"Fucking Tyrells." Torrhen swore, sheathing his sword again.

"You need to control your anger." Mira snapped.

"Don't defend her after that! And what did she mean, the stuff with this Morgryn?" Torrhen asked her.

"Nothing, something to help my family that didn't work out." Mira said. "He tried to marry me and take over Ironrath, I refused."

Torrhen looked at her angrily, before softening his features again. "We need to plan; we're leaving in three days."

* * *

They left in two. The night before Tyrion's execution all hell broke loose, and Tywin Lannister was murdered by the Imp. Having already packed, Torrhen, Mira and Sansa forced their way through the Dragon Gate as the small army of Northmen and Rivermen fought the Gold Cloaks. Torrhen had made a note of all their names, and made sure to honour them all once the North had been retaken.

The journey was on foot, and tiring. This was only made worse a couple of days into their journey, when riders from the south were spotted. Hiding the girls in the bushes, Torrhen and the 20 Northmen that had broken through the Gold Cloaks all turned to stare down the 5 riders. At the head of the riders was none other than Jaime Lannister.

"Ser Jaime, looking better than the last time I saw you." Torrhen remarked.

"Torrhen Stark, I heard you died." Jaime replied.

"Not yet." Torrhen responded.

"Apparently so. Imagine my surprise when my sister ordered me to ride on the Kingsroad and ride down you and your little band of Northerners." Jaime said, gesturing to the small group.

"Now that." Torrhen chuckled. "That won't be happening."

"The war is over Stark; your brother is dead."

"The war is over when I say it's over." Torrhen growled.

"I didn't want to do this, you treated me with kindness which is why I rode myself, even with my injury." Jaime said, raising his golden hand. "But I will not disobey the Queen's orders."

"I treated you with kindness because your lover had my sister." Torrhen snarled. "No other reason. I have no issue with sending you back to your sister in pieces."

Jaime looked down from his horse and stared into Torrhen's eyes. "Well then, King Black Wolf. That makes this easy."

"NOW!" Torrhen roared, and archers sent a pair of arrows each directly into the horses, bringing them all down in one swift movement. Half of the group then rushed into the trees and bushes to escort Sansa and Mira to Harrenhal, while Torrhen and the rest unsheathed their swords and clashed with the Gold Cloaks. Torrhen himself rushed at Jaime.

For the first time, Torrhen was glad that Locke had cleaved the Kingslayer's hand off, as he clearly wasn't very good with his left. Torrhen went on the offensive immediately, raining attacks upon the Kingslayer as quick as he could. Jaime fought well though, using his new golden hand to act as a sort of shield, while pushing as hard as he could with his sword. Torrhen grimaced as the Kingslayer sliced his thigh, and immediately swung wildly at his opponent's head. Jaime ducked, and the two squared off again. Torrhen was angry, and in his anger, he powerfully pushed the Kingslayer down the Kingsroad, attacking ferociously. A breakthrough showed itself, and Torrhen parried Jaime's sword to his left, bringing it back immediately to slice the Kingslayer's belly slightly, just under the armour. Grimacing, Jaime tried to swing back, but Torrhen deflected the blow easily, knocking Jaime's sword to the ground. Panting, Torrhen brought his sword up to finish the Kingslayer off, but gasped as a knife found its way into Torrhen's side. Kicking Jaime over so he was on his back, he pushed his sword against Jaime's neck.

"I hope you rot in the Seven Hells." Torrhen said through the pain in his side.

"No doubt about that." Jaime grinned. "I'll tell your Father you say hi."

That did it for Torrhen, and he thrust his sword into the Kingslayer's neck, watching as blood left his body, the light left his eyes, and Jaime Lannister moved no more. He turned to see that the Gold Cloaks had all perished, as well as seven of his men. The remaining three surrounded Torrhen.

"Your Grace, you're injured!" One exclaimed.

"Send Jaime's head back to King's Landing, we keep the golden hand." Torrhen grunted. "Then patch me up."

* * *

They caught up with the girls within the day, and after Mira and Sansa both fussed about Torrhen, scolding the survivors for shoddy bandaging and replacing Torrhen's bandages, they all made their way to Harrenhal.

The first thing he noticed when walking up to the ruined castle was how well the defences looked. Harrenhal was a true fortress, and nobody was likely to take it, especially with the Greatjon and Maege Mormont in control. After verifying he was actually Torrhen, the gates opened, and Arya immediately rushed to Torrhen, gripping him in a hug that hurt Torrhen's new wound. Cat ran to Sansa, crying her eyes out as she hugged her eldest daughter. She turned to Torrhen from the hug.

"You're all ok, you're all ok." She repeated.

"We're fine Mother, I promise you." Torrhen said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "We heard about Robb."

The courtyard grew silent, until one by one the Northerners in the castle bent on one knee towards Torrhen. The Greatjon walked over to the Stark boy, and knelt directly in front of him.

"Harrenhal is yours, Your Grace." The Greatjon said.

"Stand, Lord Umber." Torrhen said, his newfound authority still strange. "First, we will mourn my brother, ensure my party are well rested and fed. Then we can talk about the future."

"Of course." The Greatjon said, still towering over Torrhen. "Let's get the Starks cleaned up and food in their bellies! Come on you lazy shits!" He called out to the men in the castle, who immediately got to work.

They spoke later, planned their next moves and agreed on all actions, but the first thing they did once everything had been settled and agreed was crown Torrhen in the middle of the Hall of a Thousand Hearths. 8,000 men gathered to see Torrhen kneeling in the middle of the hall, as the Greatjon placed a crown on top of his head. Torrhen stood, and turned so he had stood facing everybody in the room. His eyes landed on Sansa, Arya, Mira and his Mother, all stood together at the front, and he grinned. Unsheathing his sword, he held it high in the air. The Greatjon followed his example, and soon every soldier in the room held their swords aloft.

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!" The Greatjon roared, and the room echoed the phrase so loud, Torrhen wouldn't have been surprised if King's Landing could hear the Northerners scream.

"The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North!"


	5. Fire and Ice

**This is an idea I've had for a while, but one day walking back from a day in uni I actually fleshed out the idea. A 'What If Dany got pregnant from Torrhen?'**

 **This is set after Chapter 46 of Black Wolf Rises. Torrhen and Daenerys have had their angry throne room sex, and Torrhen has mutilated his hand to re-forge Brightroar into the two swords and had the sense of foreboding that made Balerion howl the pyramid down.**

 **Please let me know what you think! It's my longest ever chapter to date and it took a lot of time.**

 **I own nothing but Torrhen. Anything else belongs to George RR Martin or HBO.**

* * *

Dany was furious. Torrhen Stark had let a Qohorik blacksmith into her city, and allowed the foreigner to mutilate him all for some swords. She had seen him the day before, his left hand now missing a finger and had raged at the Stark. He had just looked at her amused. Apparently, he liked seeing her riled up, which riled her even more. Even thinking about it annoyed her.

She couldn't even focus on court today. Something she had eaten hadn't agreed with her and she had been up all night, so she was stuck in the apex of the Great Pyramid throwing up and in a foul mood. Thankfully she had been able to see through to the Wolfpoint training area, and the unmistakable figure of Torrhen pounding away at a training dummy.

Missandei came into the apex with an old Meereenese healer, and Dany looked over, concerned.

"What is this?" She asked.

"Your Grace, I was concerned at your illness and I thought the healer should look. Forgive me if I overstepped." Missandei told her. Dany smiled at her friend.

"No worries, I'm sure it's just a bad meal." Dany waved off. The old man began to ask Missandei a series of questions in Ghiscari, which Dany answered calmly once they had been translated. One question took her off guard however.

"When did you last bleed?"

Dany looked away in shock. "I… I'm not sure. I haven't taken note since Rhaego." She said. Thinking about it, it had to have been a couple of months before, before she and Torrhen had argued so spectacularly about her marriage to Hizdahr.

The man spoke again, and Missandei blushed and turned to Dany. "He wants to inspect your belly and breasts."

"He thinks I'm pregnant." Dany whispered. She nodded to the man and let him fondle around her torso for a few moments, before he stood back up and nodded.

"It seems you are pregnant, Your Grace." Missandei said.

Dany had no idea what to think. "That's… I can't be."

"You're what?" A voice came from the doorway. Dany was alarmed to see Torrhen there holding a letter in his hands, his eyes open in alarm.

* * *

Torrhen had fled the apex of the pyramid, and had begun pacing in the Throne Room when Dany caught up to him.

"A baby… A baby…" Torrhen was saying.

"Tor!" Dany shouted from the top of the stairs. "Talk to me." She pleaded, walking down the steps. Torrhen waited until she was inches away from him before turning and resting his forehead down on hers.

"A baby… I thought you said…"

"I did… I thought I was… I'm scared too." Dany told him, still processing the fact after she had been convinced she was barren. "What if I can't have children and this is just a cruel trick? What if it's not a trick, but the baby dies inside me? So many questions I have."

Torrhen looked into Dany's eyes to see them glisten with the beginnings of tears. He leant down and passionately kissed her, feeling her melt into him. Pulling away, he whispered quietly. "It will all be ok. I will make it ok."

"How?" Dany asked vulnerably.

"We shall wed." Torrhen said. "Fuck Hizdahr, and fuck Meereen. This is the heir to the Iron Throne. We shall wed and take back our homes I swear it to you, Daenerys Stormborn." Realising what he must do, he got down on one knee. "I cannot speak for my Lords, they do not know you. But I do, and I shall call you my Queen from this day, until my last day."

Dany was shocked. "You're jesting." She said.

"I'm a Stark, not a mummer." Torrhen told her. "Marry me and our babe shall one day sit upon the Iron Throne."

"I'm betrothed." Dany reminded him. Torrhen smirked.

"I can always challenge him for your hand." He grinned. Dany laughed, the image of Torrhen fighting Hizdahr a joy to think about.

"I shall speak to my advisors." She said. "Don't do anything stupid until I give you an answer. Leave Hizdahr be for now."

"As Her Grace commands." Torrhen grinned, standing up and planting a kiss on her forehead. "A baby…"

"I know." Dany grinned, excited about it for the first time.

Torrhen grasped her hands. "I want my Mother to move into this pyramid. I don't fully trust the Meereenese, especially as it's my babe and not Hizdahr zo Lorak's. My Mother can guide you through."

Dany looked annoyed. "I have given birth before." She stated.

"And my Mother has done it six times without being unaware of what happened." Torrhen argued. "Please, for my peace of mind."

Dany furrowed her brow, before softening and nodding. "Very well, I'll send some Unsullied over to help move her things.

"Thank you." Torrhen smiled. A cough came from the doorway, and Daario Naharis was escorting Hizdahr in to the room.

"My Queen. Hizdahr here would like a word." Daario said smirking.

"It will have to wait." Dany said firmly. "Daario, I need you to gather Grey Worm and Missandei. I need my council."

Torrhen nodded at her and began to leave the room. He took Hizdahr from Daario, and shoved him roughly out of the room. "Come on funny man, leave Her Grace to her meetings." He grinned. Hizdahr complained, but he wasn't strong enough for Torrhen.

* * *

 **One week later**

Dressed in his finest Stark attire, Torrhen was putting the final touches to his clothing when his Mother walked in holding a cloak in her hands. He grinned up at her.

"I made this for you." She said, unveiling it to show a white cloak with a large black Direwolf running. The edges were detailed red blue and silver, to show off House Tully too. "I know she won't actually call herself Stark, but Dany asked for this."

"She did?" Torrhen asked amusedly. "Thank you, Mother." He said, letting her pin it on his grey doublet. The back of the cloak was black, so it matched his clothing.

"My boy." She said emotionally. "Married to a Queen."

"It's like Sansa's dreams as a child in reverse." Torrhen laughed. Catelyn chuckled, sniffing.

"I wish she was here." She sighed.

"Aye, me too." Torrhen told her. He looked at himself one last time and nodded. "I'm ready."

Catelyn smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "You remember the words?"

"I do." Torrhen laughed. Without a Godswood he had agreed to marry by the Seven, on the request they said their vows by a Heart Tree whenever one came available.

"Let's go then." Catelyn smiled, leading him by the arm.

They were to wed in the Great Pyramid in the Throne Room. A feasting hall had been set up there, and a Septon had been found in Meereen, who was currently stood at the top of the stairs just before the Throne. Torrhen made his way there and waited for Daenerys to walk in.

Once she did, he gasped. She was breath taking. Her hair was done up in an intricate Southern pattern. Her dress didn't leave much to the imagination, as she wore a black scaled dress with a thin Targaryen cloak, and only her breasts were covered up above her naval. She looked the picture of a goddess, not just a Queen.

She walked up the steps gracefully, and when she reached the top Torrhen took her hand and gently kissed it. "You look beautiful, My Queen." He whispered. The Septon began to say the verses, but Torrhen was sure only his Mother was listening. Most of the guests followed different faiths and Dany and Torrhen only had eyes for one another.

The ceremony droned on as the Septon said his piece, but Torrhen stared into Dany's eyes and thought on how they had got here. The plan concocted between Torrhen and Daario had worked, and Hizdahr, with no idea how, had been found in a brothel with two young boys. Dany had been furious, claiming she couldn't marry such a perverse man even to solidify her relations with Meereen, and the city on the most part had agreed.

He was brought out of his revelry by the Septon telling him to cloak his new bride. He carefully unclasped the Targaryen cloak from her shoulders and handed it to Missandei, before unclasping his own cloak and turning it to place over Dany's shoulders, so the Stark sigil was prominent. He returned to face his bride, who beamed up at him.

"My Lords, My Ladies. We stand here in the sight of Gods and men to witness the union of Man and Wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul. Now and Forever." The Septon then tied a ribbon around their hands. "Let it be known that Daenerys of House Targaryen, and Torrhen of House Stark are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity."

The Septon then undid the ribbon, and Torrhen grinned. "You're stuck with me now."

Dany looked up cheekily. "I could still have you executed if I wanted to." She grinned, causing Torrhen to laugh. They were interrupted by the Septon.

"Look upon each other and say the words." He instructed.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger." Torrhen began as Dany said the same. "I am hers, and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days." Torrhen reached down and kissed the Targaryen Queen, and the applause ringing around the room finalised the wedding.

The feast was held later on, and the Northerners attending all looked as though they thoroughly enjoyed themselves, all being exceptionally drunk. Torrhen tried to stay as sober as he could, as though he was having a good time, both his mind and Dany's were more focused on trying to coordinate an invasion of the North.

The Northerners refused to go without a bedding either, and Torrhen was full of laughter as the women in the room carried him all the way up to Dany's chambers tearing at his clothes as they went. Soon enough, he was placed in to the bedchambers that would be theirs for the night, and turned to grin at an equally naked Dany.

"One of those men wouldn't leave my breasts alone." Dany cried in mock outrage. "I want his hands."

"You're stuck with mine I'm afraid." Torrhen laughed, as he walked over and stroked her nipples with his thumbs, causing Dany to burst into laughter and drag him to the bed to consummate their union.

* * *

 **Ten months later**

It had taken a long time, but Meereen had finally been subdued. The arrival of Tyrion Lannister and Varys while initially toxic for the two Starks, turned out to be fruitful as it was discovered the leaders of Meereen, Astapor and Volantis had been funding the Sons of the Harpy. The attempted invasion of Meereen had easily been flung back however, as the Northern Fleet had blocked the naval invasion, only losing three ships in the process. Since then, all Dany had been waiting for was Drogon.

The birth of the twins had seen that happen. As soon as Edwyle and Elaena had slipped from between Daenerys' legs a roar had been heard from outside the Great Pyramid and Drogon had appeared in a ball of fire. His siblings too, breaking free of their chains and destroying the tomb Dany had entrapped them in. Torrhen now watched from the balcony of Wolfpoint as he held his son in his arms, bouncing the boy who had Torrhen's Father's look on his knee while Catelyn held little Elaena, the silver haired Targaryen beauty. They were waiting for Daenerys' arrival to indicate the final movement of her troops to the ships that lay waiting to take them back to Westeros.

Catelyn had been in her element ever since the birth. No longer was the constant pained expression on her face, replaced by a warm smile as she watched her two twin grandchildren. Torrhen often snuck a glance to see how happy she was.

It had been decided that the twins would take on differing surnames. Edwyle was the younger, and as he took the Stark look, he would take on the Stark name and be the heir to Winterfell. Elaena on the other hand looked the Valyrian, and would be Dany's sole heir. Catelyn hadn't been too happy at the thought, but was persuaded when the girl opened her eyes to show the soft grey eyes, seemingly too gentle to be a true Stark.

"Her eyes look like Ned's did when he smiled." Catelyn said, bringing Torrhen out of his reminiscing.

"Really?" Torrhen asked, amused. "I thought Father had a reputation for cold, stern eyes."

"He did, but not with me." Catelyn sighed gently. "His eyes truly shone on rare occasions, when I birthed you and Sansa for example."

Torrhen smiled sadly. News of Sansa was few and far between, but Howland tried his best to keep Torrhen updated. Edwyle laughed then, and began clawing for the dragons flying above.

Daenerys was introduced by the guards, and she walked towards Torrhen and picked up Edwyle, sitting on Torrhen's lap in the process. "How are the babes?" She asked sweetly, pulling a face at Edwyle.

"Well. They missed their mother." Catelyn smiled as Elaena reached for Dany too. The Targaryen matriarch grinned.

"How did Daario take it?" Torrhen asked. The sellsword had been requested to stay and control Meereen while the rest went to Westeros.

"Not well, he still thinks he should be by my side." Dany sighed. "But he accepted it. We can leave today."

Torrhen breathed in relief. "Good. We've waited too long and my people grow restless."

Dany tensed slightly. "My people as well, remember."

Torrhen chuckled. "Of course." He nodded. "The Greatjon apparently is furious, but you can turn him around."

"Can I?" Dany asked.

Torrhen nodded. "My Brother, Robb, when we first called our banners the Greatjon wanted to be in the van. Said if he wasn't, then he would march his men back to Last Hearth. My Brother told him he was welcome to do so and after the war Robb would march North and hang him for an oathbreaker." He chuckled at the memory. "Lord Umber went to unsheathe his blade when Grey Wind ran over the table and snapped two of his fingers off."

"The wolf bit two of your Lord's fingers?" Dany asked, horrified.

"Aye." Torrhen laughed. "He was furious until Robb spoke. 'My Lord Father taught me it was death to bare steel against your Liege Lord. Doubtless, the Greatjon only meant to cut my meat for me.' He said, and the Greatjon laughed, and from then on has been our staunchest supporter. He values strength above all else, and you have the dragons."

Dany thought on that. Catelyn interjected. "Win the Greatjon, my Queen, and you've won the North."

"Aye." Torrhen nodded. "He'll listen and obey if I order him too, but prove yourself to him and you'll not have many more loyal."

Nodding, Dany looked back out to her Dragons. She cuddled Edwyle tighter and spoke. "Shall we depart this city then, My Lord Husband?"

Grinning, Torrhen nodded. "Let's, My Queen."

* * *

 **One month later**

Torrhen watched from the bow of Frostfang as they pulled into White Harbour. He could see that Lord Manderly had formed a large procession of armed men and began to fear the worst. The ship was allowed to dock, and Torrhen, Tyrion Lannister and a few guards walked onto the pier. Lord Manderly approached them, in full armour.

"Lord Manderly." Torrhen said formally.

"What is he doing here." Lord Wyman snarled at the imp. "He's a Lannister. His ilk murdered my son."

Tyrion held his arms up in surrender. "I had no part of that."

"Your Father did." Wyman snarled.

"And I killed him." Tyrion fought back.

"There is none more accursed that the Kinslayer." A woman with green hair to the side of Wyman spat.

"Hush, Wylla." Wyman said holding up a hand. "That is true, but I shan't miss Tywin Lannister for a second. You trust this man?" Wyman asked Torrhen.

"He's a Lannister, I'll never truly trust him." Torrhen admitted. "My wife does though."

"Aye your wife. A Stark bending the knee to a Targaryen." Wylla interrupted, and she spat on the floor.

"Careful, My Lady." Torrhen warned. He pointed up to the sky at that moment. The Manderly's looked up too, and a screech came from the clouds. The Manderly's became startled soon after, as Daenerys swooped down on top of Drogon and roared. Torrhen waited for their hosts to correct themselves before continuing. "I ask you to reaffirm your pledge to House Stark. Join with me to defeat the Boltons, Freys and Lannisters alike. All our enemies shall bow before the dragon once more."

Wylla looked unconvinced, but Wyman was a smart man. "We bowed to dragons before aye, and then we overthrew her Father. Why bend again? Why go against your own Lord Father?"

Torrhen had expected this question. "We all know what my Lady's Father was. We know what half of the Targaryen's were like. Daenerys isn't like that. She overthrew the slavers in the Bay of Dragons. She stayed and learned how to rule instead of rushing into Westeros. I believe in her My Lord."

Wyman Manderly was a large man, larger than Torrhen. He walked up so he was a metre in front of the Stark and looked stern. "I'm in no rush to serve a Targaryen again, I remember the war." He said, before getting to one knee. "But I detest the Bolton's more. House Stark gave my family salvation when we desperately needed it. I shall not break faith with House Stark today My Lord. White Harbour is yours."

Torrhen breathed in relief. Bidding Manderly to stand, they spoke about the plans for the future, and two days after their arrival. 8,000 Unsullied and almost 10,000 Northerners marched Westwards to Moat Cailin.

* * *

 **Three days later**

They arrived at the Moat to much of the same reaction as they had gotten at White Harbour. Howland Reed was quick to smile but Lord Umber, as expected, was furious.

He stood with his arms folded as Torrhen, with Balerion at his side, waited for Dany to dismount Drogon and join him. The eye contact between the Stark and Umber Lords was tense, as both were glaring daggers, daring the other to say something. As Torrhen felt Dany's presence at his side, he felt comfortable in speaking.

"Lord Umber. Lord Reed. Thank you for holding the Moat." He said formally.

"It was our duty My Lord. I'm sorry that I was the bringer of such horrendous news to you while you were away." Howland bowed politely.

"Your news was appreciated, good and bad." Torrhen said. Balerion was beginning to get agitated towards the Umber Lord.

"We've harried the Bolton's at your orders, Your Grace." The Greatjon said sternly, emphasising the title. "Fever is ours, as is Whitford."

"Very good Lord Umber." Torrhen said, ignoring the title conversation for now. "Let us move inside, we have much to discuss."

"We can discuss it here." Umber said sternly. Balerion snapped at that, and Drogon was snarling displeasing from behind them too.

"Jon…" Howland began.

"No Lord Reed." Torrhen said holding his hand up. "If you insist."

Umber looked at Daenerys icily. "I told you when you left, I won't bow to another Targaryen. Not after the Mad King." He said.

"I understand my Father was cruel, I understand and support your rebellion, My Lord." Dany said strongly. "I am not my Father I swear to you."

"You swear." Umber laughed. "The day I believe that…"

Torrhen interrupted loudly. "It was the dragons we bowed to!" He shouted loudly to gain attention, reciting the Greatjon's words all those years ago. "And now the Dragons are dead." He turned and looked at Drogon. "That to me looks like a dragon."

"Her Father burnt your Grandfather and Uncle alive!" Umber shouted.

"And Queen Daenerys has birthed me an heir!" Torrhen shouted back. "A baby boy, named Edwyle Stark."

"And a daughter, Lord Umber." Dany said, quieter but with as much strength as she could muster. "Elaena Targaryen will one day sit the Iron Throne, a Targaryen with Stark blood."

"I understand your concerns, Lord Umber." Torrhen said. "Truly, I do. But the alliance garnered from this union is more important than personal pride. We need each other. We need Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons to root out House Bolton from existence, we need Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons to destroy House Frey. They are my goals, I trust you still share them."

Umber nodded. "Aye, your cause is my cause. If you say we fight with the dragon then I'll fight with the dragon." He stepped forwards and looked down at Daenerys, a good couple of feet taller that the Targaryen. "But will I fuck bend my knee to a Targaryen."

With that the Umber Lord walked off into the newly fortified Moat Cailin, leaving a furious Daenerys and a grinning Torrhen.

"That went well." Howland Reed said, shaking hands with Torrhen.

"Well? He refused to bend the knee after his Liege Lord expressed his will." Daenerys said angrily. "Why shouldn't I feed him to Drogon?"

Torrhen laughed loudly. "Your Grace, you still have a lot to learn about Northerners. If he didn't like your strength, he'd be marching home by now. He'll bend the knee, he just wants proof of your strength."

"Which will come." Howland said. "Since you sent the numbers we've been planning."

"As have we." Torrhen nodded. "We'll bring Lord Tyrion and Ser Wylis to the Council chambers and share the plans." Howland Reed nodded, and walked back into the Moat, leaving Torrhen to admire the place.

Howland hadn't been idle, new, stone walls had been erected around the hill, and the towers themselves had been refortified and looked stronger than ever. The castle was buzzing with activity too. After ordering his men to set up camp wherever they could find solid ground, Torrhen moved towards the Council Chamber to begin planning the retaking of the North.

* * *

 **One week later**

A week was all they stayed at the Moat for, planning the movements to take the Bolton's unaware. The army would be split into two. Dany would take the Unsullied and House Manderly's levies with her to the Dreadfort to attack that castle, and Torrhen would take his own forces and the Greatjon's 3000 men with him westwards, to take Barrowton and Highbrook Tower before converging on Winterfell together. Lord Howland and the Crannogmen were to man the Moat again.

Ravens had also been sent to the other houses requesting fealty. So far nothing had been sent back, but Torrhen didn't want to wait.

The day of the march, Dany was sat in Catelyn's chambers with the two children, keeping the babes as close to her as she could before she departed. Torrhen was stood off some way, with Catelyn.

"Are you sure you're going to be ok here?" He asked.

"I raised six children, two babes will be fine." Catelyn assured him. "I have Lord Howland here too. You go and make them pay for what they did to us. Save Sansa."

"I will." Torrhen promised. Catelyn smiled softly at him, before pulling at a strap on his black leather Stark armour.

"I remember gifting you your first tarred armour." She smiled. "So long ago."

"It's served me well." Torrhen smirked. He noticed Asher Forrester at the door and gave his Mother a final hug. "I'll send word when we are all at Castle Cerwyn."

"You know our words." Catelyn said. "Winter is Coming. Bring Winter."

"They'll get the Winter aye." Torrhen grinned evilly. "They'll get Fire and they'll get blood also."

"That they will." Daenerys said strongly, having left the twins sat playing. Dany had asked for armour of her own, and she looked the part of a Targaryen warrior Queen, with black chainmail looking eerily like dragon scales, plated breastplate and shoulders all painted red and a Targaryen sigil on her cape. Torrhen wouldn't be afraid to admit how attractive she looked in it. Dany gave Catelyn a warm hug and some final words, before following Asher. Torrhen clung to his Mother next, gripping her in a tight hug.

"I'll see you very soon. Look after them." Torrhen said.

"They're in good hands." Catelyn smiled, half pushing him out the doorway with a sad smile.

Torrhen caught up with Dany in the castle courtyard. Balerion trotted over to him. The Manderly smith had done a fine job with him too, giving the wolf plate for his body that didn't obstruct movement and a saddle, so Torrhen didn't need a horse.

He caught Dany in a tight embrace, pressing his lips to hers. It was only brief though, as Asher coughed to break them apart.

"Leave nothing left." Torrhen told her.

"Are you giving me an order Stark?" Dany grinned.

"Possibly, My Queen." Torrhen grinned back. He pushed her away gently, and watched as she got atop a sleek white horse and led her army away. Unsullied, Manderly's and Asher Forrester all disappearing in the distance.

Soon enough, Torrhen was mounted on Balerion. It was a lot comfier than the time he escaped from Ironrath he noted. Lord Umber was at his side on a horse.

"To Barrowton?" He asked.

"To Barrowton." Torrhen nodded.

* * *

 **Three weeks later**

Roose Bolton was preparing to march. Word had reached him of the destruction of Barrowton and his late wife's sister, and also the fall of Highbrook Tower. Two of the Bolton's biggest allies gone. Luckily most of the Bolton army was at Winterfell with his son preparing for the attack from Stannis Baratheon, and he had waited for Harrald Karstark and the 4,000 men of Karhold before leaving the Dreadfort. He was sat in his solar with the new Lord Karstark finalising the plans when a commotion could be heard outside.

"What the blazes is happening." The Karstark Lord cursed. He was an angry man, Roose noted. His concern grew however when the young Lord swore louder.

"What is it?" Bolton asked.

"The army! They're fighting." Karstark exclaimed. Roose made his way to the window, his tower overlooked the Karstark forces and the few hundred men left at the Dreadfort that had been camped underneath the castle on the bank of the Weeping Water. What he saw though, worried even him.

His men were being swamped. Men in black armour were brutalising the Northern forces with spears, and the distinctive banner of House Manderly was on show with the other set of soldiers killing his men. Swearing, he knew he had to get out of there.

Gathering important papers and his weapons, he went to drag Karstark out of the castle through secret passages when a roar stopped him in his tracks. It was all Roose could do to look back in the direction of the noise and not shit himself.

A great black monster swooped from the sky, followed by slightly smaller monsters flanking it either side. "Dragons?" Karstark asked, terrified.

Roose couldn't move. All of his work over the last three years was crumbling around him as he listened to the screams of dying men. Even inside the castle screams could be heard as the dragons attempted to roast the castle.

Karstark had long since ran, but Roose new the game was up. Quickly, he rushed to the rookery and sent a raven to Ramsay. Sighing in silent relief, he thought his warning had gotten away when suddenly the green dragon roasted the bird and the scroll, until all that was left was ash. Staring out at the sea of dead on the ground, he watched as the great black dragon's face became visible, and Roose Bolton was staring into the eyes of a young woman.

They stared each other down for a while, until Roose closed his eyes at the sound of her voice, knowing the end had come.

"Dracarys."

* * *

The aftermath of battle was the worst. The smell of burning flesh and the screams of the unlucky survivors filled the air as Dany met with Grey Worm, Asher Forrester and Ser Wylis. She looked up at the ruins of the Dreadfort and smiled.

"We've sent a message today, Your Grace." Ser Wylis smiled, his three chins bouncing.

"That we have Ser." Dany nodded. "But it's not over yet."

"Taking Winterfell is a given surely." Ser Wylis waved off, but Asher wasn't so certain.

"There was barely 5,000 men here. Most of them with Karstark banners." He said. "We can't use the dragons so close to Winterfell without risking its destruction. They have the castle, it will be tough."

"Asher is right." Dany nodded. "This is far from over."

* * *

 **Three weeks later**

A change in plan had meant that instead of meeting at Castle Cerwyn, the Northern forces were waiting at a small village three days ride from Winterfell that Torrhen remembered as a child. Crofters' Village. They had been there for a couple of days, and Torrhen had spent the most part of that knelt by the Weirwood tree on a tiny island in the middle of a lake.

The village had been abandoned, but now it was bustling with activity. Torrhen had taken the Longhall for his own, and his Lords had taken a hut each for themselves. Houses Glover, Flint of Flint Cliffs, Tallhart, Cerwyn, Mollen, Mazin, Glenmore and Glover along with all of their vassals had joined him, boosting their forces to just under 14,000 men.

Torrhen was praying when soft footsteps could be heard from behind him. Initially angry at his prayer being disrupted, he turned to see his wife standing there.

Without saying a word, he rushed to greet her, kissing her with all his might as she returned the favour. It didn't take long until all clothing ended up on the ground, and they became one roughly underneath the Weirwood tree.

Once they had finished and redressed, they made their way to the Longhall where Lord Umber had gathered the rest of the Lords.

"Lord Stark." The Greatjon announced. "This came for you." He said, holding out a raven scroll. Torrhen took it and read, scoffing at the words. Silently he handed it to Dany.

"Stannis Baratheon demands you bend the knee to him." Dany said. She ripped up the paper. "Where is he camped?" She asked.

"Here." Lord Robett Glover pointed to a spot close to Long Lake. "It's a good defensive spot."

"We aren't going to fight him before Ramsay Snow." Torrhen told everyone.

"We don't need to." Dany said.

"Aye. That spot's enclosed." The Greatjon nodded. "If Her Grace would take her dragons, we could set them all aflame." Torrhen was too taken aback at the use of the title to comment on the plan, and the Greatjon noticed. "Aye I called her my Queen, don't fucking start."

Dany just laughed. "I'll take Drogon. We need to prepare to take Winterfell in the meantime."

"Aye." The Lords agreed.

"I have a plan for that." Torrhen said. "When I took back Winterfell for Robb, I made use of a tunnel that only Stark's know about. I only need 50 men and we can take the castle from the inside."

"Ramsay Bolton will want to show his strength though." Lord Flint said.

"Then let him." Dany told everyone.

"Aye, send most of our forces to meet him outside the gates while we fuck him from behind." Torrhen nodded. "Lord Umber, you can command the Northerners in the van."

"Finally, a Stark recognises the Umber's need to lead the van." The Greatjon grinned.

"No, it's just you're the most stubborn fucker I know and I know you'd fight through if you were covered in arrows like a fucking pincushion." Torrhen smirked, and all of his Lords laughed, including Umber.

* * *

The plan was finalised, and while Asher, Cregan Glenmore and 50 Northmen were staying put to secure the area west of Winterfell, the rest of the army began to snake around to the South of Winterfell to cut up to the open plains where they wanted the battle to take place. Torrhen meanwhile, was screaming in terror as Dany laughed, the both of them hundreds of feet up in the air racing towards Stannis Baratheon.

They landed Drogon not far away from camp, and together they walked towards the tents that made up Stannis Baratheon's army. Soon enough they were apprehended by the scouts, and Stannis met them on the edge of camp.

"Torrhen Stark, it's been a long time." He said. Torrhen could only glare at the man and his witch at his side.

"Last time I saw you, you were planning to murder your own brother." Torrhen said.

"I heard it was your Mother, Lady Catelyn that murdered him." Stannis said. Torrhen laughed angrily.

"We both know that's not the case." Torrhen said.

"Why are you here if not to bend the knee?" Stannis asked impatiently.

"To ask you to bend the knee." Daenerys said.

"This is Daenerys, of the House Targaryen." Torrhen announced. "First of her Name. Queen of the Andals and the First Men. Queen of Meereen. Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. The Unburnt. Breaker of chains, and Mother of Dragons."

Stannis looked coldly at Torrhen. "I'd heard a Stark had married the foreign Queen and bent the knee to her. I hoped I'd heard wrong."

Torrhen looked back just as coldly. "You heard correctly."

Stannis sighed angrily. "I refuse to bend the knee to a family I fought to overthrow. Robert took the Kingdoms by right of Conquest and I am the lawful heir. The throne is mine."

"Your army is weak." Torrhen told him. "Your claim died on the Blackwater. If you value your life My Lord you'd bend the knee and join forces with us. Help us take Winterfell back and we'll march South together."

"It's not a claim it's my right." Stannis said with gritted teeth. "House Targaryen lost the Throne when Rhaegar Targaryen died on the Trident."

"And we're taking it back." Dany said strongly. "Bend the knee and rise as my Lord of Storm's End. I heard what your Brother did to you, he insulted you by taking away your birth right. I shall give it back to you. Only bend the knee."

"Your Grace, they are two and we are many." The witch said in her silky tone. "Give them to me, give them to the Lord and the throne shall be yours. They are both of Kings blood, they are both powerful."

"Yes." Stannis nodded. "It was unwise to come here alone."

"Who said we were alone." Dany asked with an eyebrow raised. Suddenly the screech of Drogon could be heard, and Torrhen saw the tents at the far side of camp explode in fire. Men were screaming, and Stannis and Melisandre were both distracted. Grateful of the lessons he had taught Daenerys in wielding Dark Sister, he saw her withdraw the smaller blade as he withdrew Winter's Bite.

Lunging, he plunged the sword through the back of Melisandre's neck. A foul screech came from her body as it exploded in black light, knocking him off his feet. When he regained his balance, and managed to cut down two of Stannis' guards he looked back and saw no body.

Dany had managed to cut down Stannis in surprise as well, and he watched as the life drained out of the last Baratheon's eyes. As soon as the soldiers closest to them saw Stannis lying on the floor, dead, they dropped their swords. Drogon had managed in such a short space of time to burn half of the camp.

"Who is next in command?" Torrhen asked one guard.

"The… the Queen." They answered.

"Fetch her, and bring her here." Dany ordered, re-sheathing Dark Sister.

"You did well there." Torrhen noted.

"Thank you, Husband." Dany grinned. They waited a while as Drogon landed behind them, as Selyse Baratheon and little Shireen were brought in front of them. They both scared terrified at the body of Stannis, and Selyse immediately fainted.

"Lady Shireen." Torrhen bowed politely. "I promise, nothing will hurt you."

"My Father…" She began.

"Tried to kill us, it was self-defence." Dany said. Torrhen waved her back, and knelt before the young girl.

"Your Father is dead; do you know what that means?" He said softly.

Shireen began to tear up, but nodded. "It means, I'm his heir, so I'm Queen."

Torrhen grimaced. "Your Father was stubborn, he couldn't see that he was never going to take the Throne, and it would have killed all of you in the process. I'm Torrhen Stark, Lord of Winterfell."

"I met your brother at the Wall." She sniffed. Torrhen smiled.

"Jon? How is he?" He asked.

"Good I think, he was very busy." She told him. Torrhen chuckled.

"This is Daenerys Targaryen; do you know who the Targaryen's are?" He asked.

Shireen nodded. "They ruled before King Robert."

"Aye they did. Daenerys is going to take back the Throne, and I'm going to help her do it." Torrhen told the girl. "We could use your help too."

"Me?"

"You're Lady Baratheon now." Torrhen smiled. "The Stormlands are yours. If you help us, we'll help you settle into Storm's End and you'll be a Great Lady."

Shireen sniffed again, wiping tears from her eyes. "I've never been to Storm's End."

Torrhen grinned. "It's marvellous. I'll take you there myself one day to settle you in to your new home. What do you say?"

Shireen thought. "What happens if I don't?" She asked. "My Father would never…" She trailed off.

"If you don't, then we'll leave you be for now." Torrhen said, ignoring the obvious glare Dany was sending him. "These men, they have to answer to you now. You can carry on your Father's work and go for the Iron Throne, but you'll never win and one day we might have to fight you. I don't want that, do you?"

Shireen shook her head. "No. I want to save my House. I want to make my Father proud, but be alive to do it. What do I do?"

Torrhen told her. "Bend the knee to Queen Daenerys here and say, 'House Baratheon is yours, Your Grace'." Before rising and speaking to her surviving men. "I know many brothers died here today and I apologise. Many of you want your homes, and Queen Daenerys will give them back to you. What say you, brave men of the South? Will you follow your new Liege in surviving?"

Murmurs were the only sound for a moment, before a solitary "Aye!" Grew, until the majority of the men were chanting their agreement. Torrhen stepped back, and let Dany stand in front of the Stormlanders. Shireen softly went to one knee, and the 1,500 or so men behind her followed.

"House Baratheon is yours, Your Grace." She said loudly, through teary eyes. Dany smiled, and helped Shireen up.

"Thank you, Lady Shireen." Dany smiled. Torrhen grinned, and called over the few remaining generals to explain their next moves while Shireen and Dany got acquainted.

An hour or so later, as the Stormlanders began marching Southwards to Winterfell, Dany and Torrhen had taken a couple of the surviving horses and were riding at the end of the column. Shireen was riding ahead, getting a restrained earful from her Mother it seemed, but staying strong.

"How did you do that?" Dany asked.

"Do what?" Torrhen shrugged.

"Talk to her like that. I've never seen that side of you." Dany said, smiling.

Torrhen grinned. "She's only Arya's age. I just spoke to her like I would Arya when she was getting into trouble and I had to talk her down."

Dany nodded. "Elaena and Edwyle are in good hands then." Was all she said, before spurring her horse on to fall into line with Shireen.

* * *

 **Two days later**

Twenty archers of House Glenmore led by the new heir Cregan Glenmore, and 30 swordsmen of House Stark along with Asher Forrester prepared to infiltrate the well that lead into the castle. Torches had been given to every fifth man, and Torrhen was the first to climb down the rope, and led the men through the dark tunnel. Finally, they came to the ladder upwards that led to a secluded area of the Godswood.

The men moved silently as they entered the Godswood. Arrows twanged and the forces of House Glenmore lived up to their reputation, as the arrows constantly found the parts of the body for instant kills. Torrhen watched as the archers climbed the tree he had climbed years before to reach the walls, and he signalled to Asher to move through the castle. Quietly, they made their way into the courtyard and charged.

The men of House Bolton were confused, and their confusion led to their destruction. Torrhen carved the head off of a crossbowman swiftly with Winter's Bite, before bringing it round again to slash open the middle of another man that rushed at him. Making his way up the stairs to the balcony area, he and Asher carved through the garrison of Winterfell swiftly.

As they turned a corner, they gasped to see two women, one cloaked with her back to Torrhen, and another holding a bow towards the other one.

"Your Father was Warden of the North." The archer was saying. Torrhen knew the other girl was Sansa at that moment, and rage fell upon him. Asher grabbed him to make sure Torrhen didn't charge. "Ramsay needs you. Although I suppose he doesn't need all of yo…"

She choked and gargled on her own blood, as an arrow had come from below to strike her neck. The girl twisted, and her arrow fired. Luckily for Sansa, it whizzed past her harmlessly. Unluckily for Torrhen, it caught him straight in his right side, just below the plate covering his shoulders. He cried out in pain and dropped to the floor. Sansa turned once the other girl dropped to the floor dead, and once she realised who had been hit she rushed to his side.

"Torrhen!" She cried, sinking to her knees. "No! Stay with me."

Torrhen could vaguely hear Asher screaming orders, but he only had eyes for Sansa. Grimacing in pain, he snapped the arrow so barely any was sticking out of his body, and tried to get to his feet.

"We need to secure the castle." He said through clenched teeth. Sansa helped him walk towards the ramparts above the gate, and he was joined by Cregan and the 18 remaining archers that lived.

The scene in front of him was chaotic. Dead littered the ground outside Winterfell, He could see Bolton men scattering, only to be consumed by the flames of Dany's dragons circling above. He grinned as he saw Drogon with a rider on top, but that grin was cut short as a couple of riders made their way to the castle.

"Ramsay." Sansa snarled. Ramsay Bolton trotted up to the gates.

"Open up!" He called, angrily. "Now!"

Torrhen wanted to go down and pummel the bastard to death. Asher did too, as did Cregan. Knowing he was never going to be able to lift a bow, he turned to Asher. "Are you good with a bow?"

"Aye." Asher nodded. Torrhen grinned, and picked up a bow from a dead Bolton man not far away from their position to give to Asher.

"As soon as I say, make sure he's stuck with as many arrows as you can fire." He ordered the Glenmore soldiers and Asher. "For Arthur, for Ethan, for Talia, for Robb and Talisa."

"Aye." Was the call, as Ramsay was screaming at them to open the gates. Torrhen made his way to the edge with Sansa at his side, and shouted down.

"Ramsay Snow." He called, gaining the attention of the bastard.

"Ramsay Bolton, by royal decree." He called up. "Torrhen Stark, how the fuck are you still alive?"

"Kept alive by vengeance." Torrhen snarled. "In the name of Daenerys of House Targaryen. First of her Name. Queen of the Andals and the First Men. Queen of Meereen. Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. The Unburnt. Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons. I, Torrhen of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North do sentence you to die." He called down. "Loose."

Twenty arrows shot down at Ramsay and littered his chest with punctures. The bastard cried in pain as the arrows bedded themselves into his chest, with one of them punching straight through his eye and into his brain. Ramsay dropped straight to the floor, and Torrhen felt Sansa breathe easier next to him.

He immediately brought her into a hug as the men below and next to him began cheering, holding her tight until the pain in his wound was too great, and he collapsed to the floor. He heard the screaming of orders, but it was all too faint as he passed out.

* * *

 **One week later**

Torrhen woke up in a comfy room. Squinting so his eyes could get used to the light, he looked around and gasped quietly. He was in his old room at Winterfell. He tried to get up, but a sharp pain in his shoulder stopped him. Looking down, he noticed the arrow wound had been covered in some form of poultice.

"She had coated it in some form of poison. You've been out for about a week." A voice came from the side of his bed. He turned and saw the auburn hair of his twin.

"Sansa." He smiled.

"Hello Tor." Sansa smiled back, grasping his hand. "You saved me."

Torrhen laughed. "I was always coming for you. What happened?"

"Your army overpowered the Boltons, and the Queen's Dragons made short work of the ones that fled." Sansa grinned. "I think she saved Lord Umber's life at one point too."

Torrhen grinned at that. "Where is she?" He asked.

"I'm here." A voice came from the doorway. Torrhen turned to see the stunning silver hair of his wife. "I'm here." Dany repeated, making her way to his bedside. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I'm fine." Torrhen told her.

"The Maester got rid of the poison from his system, but he'll be in bed for a few days." Sansa explained.

"Enough time for Lady Catelyn to arrive with the twins then." Dany grinned. "They passed King's Course earlier today."

Torrhen grinned at the thought of his children, and let the two girls chat amongst themselves, the pair having gotten well acquainted in the time Torrhen had been out. Relaxing on the bed, he breathed his first truly relaxed breathe since the news of his Father's arrest had come to Winterfell.

* * *

 **Three days later**

Catelyn had arrived the day before, and a mild feast was being thrown. Torrhen sat in the Lords chair with Dany sat in an exquisite chair next to him. The babes, now around half a year old, were loving the attention given to them by Catelyn and Sansa, also on the High Table. Shireen looked tired to Sansa's right, but her smile seemed genuine. Selyse Baratheon hadn't taken the news of Shireen's knee bending well, and was currently locked in comfortable rooms in Winterfell.

As the rest of the food was beginning to go, Torrhen stood up. He was still gingerly hobbling, but his movement had greatly improved in the last few days. Asher Forrester banged his flagon on the table, and the room fell silent.

"Men of the North, Men of the South, Men of the East." He began. "Over a week has passed since the retaking of the North, and I know it's my fault this hasn't been done sooner but I needed a nap." The Northerners laughed at Torrhen's slight mention of his injury. Torrhen just grinned. "We fought in the name of our Queen, and House Stark, but the fighting isn't done yet. Tomorrow we point our eyes back to the South, to right wrongs, and to fuck Walder Frey so hard his whole House crumbles." The Northmen all cheered at that, banging their flagons on the tables and creating a noise. Torrhen just grinned, and nodded over to Missandei in the far corner, who stepped out of the room. "We will reinstall my Mother's House to the Riverlands, destroy all who betrayed and slaughtered our brothers. And we will put my wife, Daenerys Targaryen on the Iron Throne in place of the bastard Tommen Waters!"

"Aye!" Came the shout from the room.

"I ask you all to follow my example, and bend the knee to our Queen. She has proved herself countless times over, and there are none in the realm suited to ruling as her." Torrhen shouted. "The Queen!"

With that he got to one knee immediately. He looked around and saw everybody in the room had stood up. Shireen had got to one knee as well, as had the Stormlanders that followed her. Asher Forrester and most of the Northmen followed suit, save for a few Lords.

Lord Umber stepped forward, so he was in front of the High Table. "I told Lord Torrhen I'd never bow to a Targaryen again, and I kept my word ever since you landed on our shores." He told Dany. "I remember the Mad King, I remember his tyranny. I also remember how you swooped down on your Dragon and saved my life in the Battle of Winterfell, risking your own life for people you did not need to. I swore to myself my only monarch would be named Stark, but a monarch married to a Stark will have to do." With that he withdrew his sword, slammed the point on the stone floor and shouted. "The Dragon Queen!"

"The rest of the room followed suit, with everybody taking up the Greatjon's call. "The Dragon Queen! The Dragon Queen!" Torrhen joined in too, happily watching the face of Dany light up at the room's allegiance. She bid them all to stand, and Torrhen noticed Missandei holding something covered by a cloth. He called her up and got the rooms attention again.

"My Lords, My Ladies." He called, taking the clothed object from Missandei and revealing a silver crown, eloquent in its detail that would match Dany perfectly. "I give you Daenerys, of House Targaryen, the First of her Name. Queen of the Seven Kingdom's. Long may she reign!"

"Long may she reign!" Was the roar from the Great Hall, and the North in all of its power had united behind the banner of the Dragon.


	6. The King Who Knelt

**It's been a while, I know. For those of you that are reading this and don't know why I've been silent for the last month or so, my hard drive has stopped working, so all of my notes and plans, and half of Chapter 25 of United in Fury is lost until I can recover the data. Exams have also played a part, but now I've finished them, and thought you all deserved a treat.**

 **As for the future, I will be sorting out my hard drive over the next few weeks, so will hopefully have another chapter of United in Fury soon. Thank you all for your patience.**

 **This one shot starts during Season 5 of the show, and is a 'What if Torrhen didn't travel to Meereen?' I hope you all enjoy it.**

* * *

 **304 AC**

Moat Cailin had become a fortress worthy of the name. In the months since the fall of House Forrester, the tyranny of the Bolton's had led to a number of minor Northern Houses flocking to the Moat and to the banner of the Black Wolf, and the 8,000 men had made the former ruin into a formidable asset. House Glenmore was the most notable addition, the house following Rodrik Forrester into abandoning their ancestral seat for the hope of a brighter future.

Small skirmishes had taken place on the borders of the Moats lands, but after a while, the men had grown impatient and had set off to take an entire region of the North. Catelyn Stark was sat in her chambers in the Gatehouse Tower helping to repair some armour, as Arya stood at the window impatiently.

"Why are they taking so long? It's been days since we heard the news!" She complained.

Catelyn chuckled at her daughter's impatience. "Wars take time, and Barrowton is a major seat of the North. With Lady Barbrey dead Torrhen needs to ensure that the entire region is solidified and won't defect back to House Bolton. Have patience."

"Patience." Arya scoffed. "I should be there."

"No." Catelyn said firmly, taking her eyes from the leather. "You are not ready."

Sighing, Arya continued to stare out the window, until she stood as rigid as she possibly could have. "Do you hear that?"

Catelyn could hear something, and set her work aside to stand beside her growing daughter. Across the moors, war horns could be heard. Smiling, she whispered. "Torrhen."

Arya bolted from the chambers, and Catelyn followed swiftly, making her way to the muddy courtyard. Wooden walls had been put up and the bogs had been partially drained, but even the insides of the castle could be dangerous if the paths were not taken. Carefully, she lined up with Arya to welcome the soldiers back, as a pregnant Elaena Glenmore and the current commander of the Moat, Rodrik Forrester, also appeared.

The hooves grew louder, and Cat could hear the men dispersing to their relevant camps. Growing impatient, she smiled widely as the wooden gates opened, and in came the tarred leather armour of her son, surrounded by several nobles in his service. The stable boys rushed to gather the horses, as Torrhen walked up to Rodrik first.

"Your Grace." Rodrik bowed his head.

"Lord Forrester." Torrhen replied. "Any news from White Harbour?"

Rodrik shook his head. "Lord Manderly remains silent to our ravens, and Lady Mormont has not reached Deepwood Motte yet to aid Lord Glover."

Torrhen clenched his gloved fist, before releasing it again. "No matter, we shall have the Wolfswood soon enough, and with Barrowton ours we have dealt Roose Bolton a crushing blow."

"There is some more news, from the Wall." Rodrik said, glancing nervously at Catelyn. Lady Stark knew she wasn't privy to everything Torrhen did as she wasn't in his full councils, but this made her extra nervous.

"Jon?" Torrhen asked, and Catelyn clenched her teeth.

"He has been made Lord Commander of the Night's Watch." Rodrik said. This shocked Catelyn, and made her breathe a little easier.

"No way!" Arya exclaimed. Catelyn silenced her with a glare.

"Yes, Princess." Rodrik told her, before turning back to Torrhen. "But there's other news. Worrying news."

The booming voice of the Greatjon exclaimed. "Out with it."

Torrhen held an arm up to keep the large man quiet, and Cat was impressed at the restraint the Greatjon had. "Continue Rodrik."

Lord Rodrik nodded, gripping his cane. "Stannis Baratheon is at the Wall with an army. It seems like he's to assault Winterfell."

Catelyn could see Torrhen shift nervously. He grabbed the parchment that had the information on it and read through a few times before he looked up again. "Convene the council immediately."

* * *

Torrhen stood around the large map of the North detailing all the troops in the country, and personally placed six stag pieces on the markings of the Wall. He looked around at his generals. Lords Umber, Forrester, Reed along with Cregan Glenmore, the commander for his House.

"Stannis Baratheon has 6,000 men at the Wall in total." He began. "We have 8,000. House Bolton now is limited to around 11,000 with House Ryswell and Karstark backing them. That is where we stand." He said, pointing to each relevant grouping of carvings. "Of the powers remaining, Stannis is the only one we can make common ground with. He is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, and my own Father died for his right to sit in it."

"We have no part in the Throne." The Greatjon stated.

Torrhen nodded. "You're right. We broke free when Robb was crowned, but we have had no major victory since Oxcross, our numbers are thin and we control a fragment of the North. This could be our only chance of getting home."

"And then what?" Howland asked. "We win Winterfell back, free the North and then Stannis will expect us to march South with him."

"Lord Reed is right." Cregan nodded. "This won't be over until Stannis sits the throne, and to do that we need to go through the Freys, Lannisters, Tyrells and Martells…"

"The Martell's won't fight for Tommen." Rodrik waved away. "And the Freys won't have any allies either, they're still putting down all the rebellion in the Riverlands."

"Then we appeal to the Riverlanders." Torrhen suggested. "My Mother is a Tully, she has known most of them. We can send her words to them asking them to bide their time, and once they hear of a Stark victory in the North they can rise up, and we shall take the Twins from both sides."

"And then get buggered by the Southerners." The Greatjon told him.

"Not if we have the Vale." Torrhen said, and silence fell over the table for a short while. "Think about it, a Kingdom at full strength, with blood ties to both House Tully and Stark."

"You're forgetting that Lysa Arryn refused to join your Brother." The Greatjon argued.

"And now she's dead." Howland reminded everyone. "Littlefinger is in charge now, but the Lords and Ladies are unhappy at that. If we can give them a push to overthrow him…"

"Organise a coup? We want the full force of the Vale, not a Civil War." Rodrik shook his head. "To overthrow Littlefinger would be just that."

"Then we offer the creep what he wants most." Torrhen said, internally shuddering at the thought. "Marriage to my Mother."

"Your Grace…" Cregan began.

"That could work." Reed nodded. "Lady Stark won't be happy about it."

"She wasn't happy when my Uncle died and left her to marry my Father, but if she is saving her brother, and securing the Northern Kingdom's… she's smart, she will do it." Torrhen told them. "If we can fortify the line from Riverrun to Darry, we have the power to at least ask questions of the Southerners, and the Martells won't fight for Lannister power."

"Nor will they for Baratheon." Howland said.

"Keep them neutral and that will benefit us all, that way our main problem is House Tyrell." Rodrik nodded.

"This still requires you bending the knee to Stannis. You'll spit in the faces of those that died for your Brother." The Greatjon said. Torrhen stood regally, glaring at the great man.

"My Brother was a child that was coerced into a title he didn't want." Torrhen said darkly. "I tried to live by his oath, but we are outnumbered, My Lord. If we are to win the North, then Stannis will come for us. Even if we win that, then the South comes for us. We may hold on, but for generations, we will be the prize that Dorne was to the Targaryens. We will be the missing piece of the Kingdom's and bring on centuries of bloodshed. I don't want that. I want to go home, do you?"

The Greatjon nodded. "Aye."

"It has been an honour being King, and I promise if Stannis doesn't agree to acceptable terms, then I will remain your King." Torrhen said to them all. "But he is the rightful heir, and I have no problems in repeating my namesake's actions to save the North from generations of death."

Torrhen's speech had caused the nobles in the room to nod along. "My House has been decimated." Rodrik sighed. "My leg crippled, my family murdered. I will gladly accept a Baratheon monarch so long as I can live in peace."

Howland also agreed. "My son is likely dead. My daughter too. I just want to go home and to grieve, following you in supporting Stannis gives me the best chance to do so."

Cregan looked unsure. "I'll have to talk to my Father of course, but so long as we can avenge Arthur's death, he will be happy and will follow you."

Torrhen looked to the Greatjon. "I still say fuck the Southern cunts." Lord Umber said, before sighing. "But you're right I suppose. So long as I can bugger Roose bloody Bolton with my sword and slap the whore queen with my cock, I can follow Stern Stannis."

* * *

Cregan Glenmore had been sent to the Wall to meet with Stannis and offer the alliance, and while the young heir was away Torrhen began sending missives to those Lords that had been unwilling to go against the Boltons, mentioning the potential alliance and requesting their support. It took a few weeks, but soon enough, news had reached Moat Cailin that the Hand of King Stannis was on his way.

Torrhen was offended, and made that known to his family in the newly built Moat Cailin Lord's chamber, where Torrhen was to meet with the Onion Knight.

"You should be meeting him outside, not sending the Greatjon." Catelyn shook her head.

"I am still a King as we stand Mother." Torrhen said, unhappily. "He treats me with disrespect by sending the Onion Knight."

"He is testing you." Catelyn told him. "Stay courteous, act strong, and win this alliance. You have your offers ready?"

Torrhen nodded. "Aye, we are ready."

Cat nodded, and grasped Torrhen's Shoulder as she moved herself and Arya to the side, allowing Torrhen to sit in his throne. The stained wood almost as dark as the armour and cloak worn by the Stark. Torrhen shifted to a more comfortable spot, and waited for the doors to open.

When they did, he recognised the Onion Knight from the parlay at Storm's End immediately, but next to him was a man that Torrhen hadn't expected to see. Rising, he watched as the fat man struggled to kneel.

"Lord Manderly. I did not expect to see you here." Torrhen spoke.

The fat Lord rose again. "I would have arrived sooner, but the arrival of Ser Davos here made me think it would be better to arrive together, as a show of unity against any spies, Your Grace."

Torrhen smirked at the title. "I am Your Grace now? Not too long ago you were ignoring my ravens."

The fat Lord moved nervously. "Forgive me, Your Grace. We have been plagued by spies in White Harbour, but the arrival of Ser Davos and his banners would have filtered to King's Landing and Winterfell already. I swear, we always supported House Stark."

Torrhen walked down the few steps and stood in front of the Lord, trying to impose his authority. "Your men would have been useful in the last few months nonetheless." He said unhappily, before his Mother caught his eye. "Although I realise you played your part for the sake of your son. How is Ser Wylis?"

Lord Manderly looked surprised. "Recuperating, Your Grace. Glad to be home and free of the South."

Torrhen nodded, and grinned. "Welcome back to the North, Lord Wyman. Ser Cregan will see you to some chambers in mine own tower and we shall talk more when you are better rested." Lord Wyman looked grateful, and followed the young Glenmore heir out of the room. Torrhen waited for them to go before stepping in front of Davos Seaworth. Torrhen noticed the maimed hand of Ser Davos, but ignored it. "I was hoping to talk to Stannis, as equals." He growled lightly.

Davos took it in his stride and answered politely. "His Grace has entrusted me to hear you, King Torrhen, though he is wary of why you seek him out. He has not forgotten that you were on the side of Renly at Storm's End." He finished by holding out a letter with Stannis' seal on.

Torrhen breathed out a laugh and broke the seal, reading Stannis' words proclaiming Davos his emissary. "Renly had five times the men and a claim, he was the obvious choice for my Brother. They are both dead however, and both Stannis and I stand, two men far from home. Stark and Baratheon should not be at odds."

"I hope you understand, Stannis will offer nothing unless you agree to swear him fealty." Davos told Torrhen.

The Stark nodded. "And if my terms are met, then I will do just that."

Davos looked surprised at the ease of that, but recovered himself well. "Your terms are?"

Torrhen looked over to Lord Rodrik and nodded. The crippled Forrester walked over and unravelled the pre-written terms that Torrhen and his Lords had come up with, some more flexible than others. "Firstly." Rodrik began. "The North shall have greater autonomy. We shall pay the previous level of taxes, we shall trade with the territories controlled by Stannis too and we shall provide men to fight in the greatest of circumstances."

Torrhen butted in. "In his war for the Throne, he shall have our support. In case of an invasion from afar, he shall have our support, but any petty squabbles he may have with the South, we do not care for."

Davos shook his head. "He will not be happy."

"Then I shall discuss it with him. Personally." Torrhen stated. "Carry on Lord Rodrik."

Rodrik nodded. "Secondly. Men shall be sent from the South to join the Night's Watch with more regularity. We have heard what's coming, and the South need to help us prepare."

Davos nodded. "We have seen also, that will be agreeable."

"Thirdly." Rodrik said. "Our religion is to be left alone. If a single Weirwood Tree is burnt, then this alliance will be over."

"I heard about Storm's End. I heard about Dragonstone." Torrhen said. "That woman of Stannis' may have power, but I will have none of it in the North." Davos nodded his assent, and Torrhen spoke again. "We have no other major demands other than an agreement that any retribution in regard to our War of Independence be voided. We warred with Joffrey, not Stannis. This includes the Riverlords."

Davos nodded. "I shall take them to Stannis of course, but there are some demands of his own that will need to be added before he will agree."

Torrhen went back to his chair and sat down. "Tell us."

"The autonomy, will not work. Your agreement and oath must be that of which your Father swore to King Robert." Davos said.

Torrhen knew that was likely, so nodded. "Carry on."

"The head of Roose Bolton is Stannis', and will be marched down to King's Landing." Davos said, and outrage spread over the room, with the Greatjon being the loudest in his disagreement. Torrhen just held his arm up, and the room quietened.

"Roose Bolton murdered our King and our Queen." Torrhen said. "That is unacceptable. House Bolton is ours to deliver justice too."

Davos nodded. "King Stannis just wants his head."

Torrhen thought, and then smirked. "Tell your King that whoever gets to him first, shall keep the head. This stands for any man in the North. Ramsay Bolton is mine though."

"Agreed." Davos said. "Lastly, you shall wed the Princess Shireen."

Torrhen was stunned at that. "Shireen is a girl." He said quietly.

"A woman, I assure you. 15 namedays." Davos insisted. "This is the King's main request. He wishes to tie the Houses together permanently."

Torrhen looked to his Mother, who only looked concerned. Thinking about it, he realised something. "This doesn't sound like Stannis. Why would a man that will consider me a usurper until I bend the knee offer me the heir to the throne?"

Davos expected this. "If I may be frank." Torrhen nodded. "King Stannis originally argued against this for the reasons you pointed out, but after advice from both myself and the Lord Commander, came to see that not only would you protect the Princess when bonded through marriage throughout the war, the match between a Lord Paramount and a Princess isn't one to be rejected lightly, and that this will send a message to the other Houses."

"So, I'm a message." Torrhen laughed. "It is not ideal, I originally wanted to marry a Northerner to unify the country."

"I understand all your reservations, not least because of her affliction." Davos said strongly, causing Torrhen to wince, as that was part of the reason he wanted to refuse. "I assure you, Lord Stark. Princess Shireen is a kind, sweet girl. A girl that thirsts for knowledge, and a girl that your own brother insists will match you well." Davos said, holding out another letter. Nodding to a guard, Torrhen soon had the letter in his hands and recognised the scribbles of Jon, begging him to consider the match.

Torrhen gestured the Greatjon forward, and the two together whispered about the deal. "So long as your religion and retribution terms are met, agree." The Greatjon whispered. "But wed her quickly and put a babe in her. If we want our terms to be kept then Stark blood on the Iron Throne cannot be turned away quickly."

Torrhen laughed aloud, and thanked the Greatjon. Standing, Torrhen moved towards Ser Davos. "Tell your King that so long as our terms on religion and the retribution of my people are met, he shall have his wedding and the North." Davos nodded his thanks. "Guards, see to it that Ser Davos is given a room that befits his station, and let him send a raven to Stannis, we'll await his agreement here together, and then march Northwards. Soon my brothers, we shall take back the North!"

Cheers rung round the room as Torrhen shook the hand of the Onion Knight, and an alliance to change the fate of the continent was made.

* * *

Marching the army Northwards through Bolton controlled territory was a challenge, but with only a few minor skirmishes with Bolton scouts, the majority of the Northern forces made their way to a cliffside near Long Lake, where Stannis Baratheon had made his camp. The air was misty, with heavy snow falling and it was difficult to see clearly, but Torrhen could make out the form of Stannis Baratheon at the front of the procession gathered to greet the Northerners.

Torrhen dismounted his horse, and waited for the Greatjon to be next to him. "Look at them all." Torrhen said quietly. "They're dying out here."

"Some King." The Greatjon grunted.

"The King." Torrhen sighed. "We need each other Jon. I want you to be in charge of whipping these Southern flowers into shape. Keep as many alive as you can."

"Aye, Your Grace." The Greatjon nodded, before the pair led the Northern commanders towards the camp.

They stopped in front of Stannis, and Torrhen recognised the Red Woman. Grimacing, he held his tongue with regards to the sorceress, and allowed Davos to introduce them.

"Your Grace. May I introduce Cregan, of House Glenmore. Jon, of House Umber. And Torrhen, of House Stark." Davos said, having agreed that titles could wait earlier.

"Lord Stark." Stannis said.

"King Stannis." Torrhen said back.

"Why now?" Stannis asked. "Why claim kingship for so long only to realise that I am the one true King. It doesn't sit well with some in my camp who know of Northern stubbornness all too well."

Torrhen smirked. "Why have you fought for so long? I was King because I was my brother's heir. It was my duty to take the mantle."

"Robb Stark was a usurper." The Red Woman spoke.

"He was a Northern King." Torrhen exclaimed. "Rightly or wrongly, he was my King and my brother, and he and his army was decimated by wickedness and treachery otherwise we would have won the war."

Stannis didn't look impressed. "Why now." He said again.

"Because I know how this will go if we don't join forces." Torrhen told him. "You will die assaulting Winterfell. You don't have the numbers, you don't have the knowledge of how to strike in the Winter. We have that knowledge, but we don't have the numbers. Joining forces is the only way I can take my home back."

"And why should I not have you executed for treason. You called yourself King after all." Stannis reminded him.

Torrhen took his crown off his head and flung it lazily on the ground at Stannis' feet. "It's a fucking piece of metal. That's all that is. You need me too, Your Grace." He said snidely. "I can deliver you the Vale and the Riverlands through my blood ties to both."

"Why are we freezing our cocks off when we've already agreed terms." The Greatjon shook his head. "You need us, we need you. Can we get this over with?"

"You are speaking to the One True King…" Melisandre began, causing Torrhen to laugh.

"Not for much longer if you don't get to warmth." The Stark said. "Can we do this after we've set up camp? I'll bend the knee if you insist on it now, but it's been a long march and your forces are depressing to look at. Let us show you how to camp in this weather and then we can talk about plans to take Winterfell."

Stannis clenched his teeth, but nodded his head. "Lady Mormont is already here, in the eastern part of the camp. Set up there, and meet me in the command tent with your generals in an hour. Ser Davos." He commanded, before skulking away with his hand and the Red Woman.

"He's a grumpy fuck." The Greatjon grinned.

"Don't antagonise him, Jon." Torrhen chuckled. "Take my squire, see that the tents are set up."

"My Lord." The Greatjon said, still getting used to the term.

* * *

An hour later, Torrhen was shown to the command tent with his group of Northerners by Ser Davos, and entered to see Stannis talking in a corner of the tent with a young girl, half of her face scarred from Greyscale. He couldn't take his eyes off of the scarring, and Davos noticed.

"I assure you, Lord Stark. It's cured completely." He whispered.

"I feel only sorrow for her." Torrhen sighed. "No child should be burdened with such an illness."

Stannis had noticed them, and with a whisper to his daughter, he joined them, with Shireen and Davos at his side. "My Lords, My Lady. We shall perform the oath of fealty now, and then discuss plans of attack."

Torrhen nodded, and took a step forward, before getting to one knee and laying his sword on the ground. "My sword is yours, my banners are yours. House Stark stands with House Baratheon, from this day until the end of days."

Torrhen's bannermen all did similar oaths, before Stannis bid them to rise. "Get them some bread and salt." He nodded to a guard, who left the tent with Shireen. "Now that you have sworn fealty, we can discuss the battle plans." He said, pointing to a map on a centre table.

Torrhen made his way to the table and had a look at the troop placements in the camp first. "Lord Umber. Take all your men and set up an extra perimeter around the camp. I don't want any surprises." He ordered.

"My Lord." Umber nodded, before getting ready to leave the tent.

"We already have a secure perimeter." Stannis told him.

Torrhen nodded. "In normal circumstances yes. But this weather will only get worse. If I was facing you I'd use the storms to sneak a small number of forces in to the camp and slaughter whatever I could before we were caught."

"An added precaution we've taken to after the Kingslayer was set free." Cregan Glenmore added. "Less gaps."

"We need to reopen the supply lines to Castle Black too, you're going to run out of food quickly." Maege Mormont said.

"The snow…" Davos began.

"Can be dealt with. You just need to know how." Maege waved him off.

Torrhen nodded. "Work with the Southerners, Maege. Teach them what you can, we're in this together now."

Maege nodded and left too. Stannis was grimacing even more. "I give the orders, Stark."

Torrhen nodded. "And if you disagree, then we shall obey, Your Grace." Torrhen tried to be polite. "But we know this weather, we know how to operate in it. Let us help you and you'll lose less men to the cold."

Davos nodded. "Few men died on the road up here, Your Grace. They are efficient."

Stannis nodded, but wasn't happy. "We will move for Winterfell as soon as the snows clear enough to march. Set trenches here, here, and here." He said, pointing to spots just out of Winterfell.

Torrhen shook his head. "There won't be a siege." He said.

"Why not?" Davos asked. "Winterfell is strong, well defended. From a defensive perspective…"

"Roose Bolton doesn't care about that. He needs to show dominance for all the North to see. If he is to be secure in my castle for years to come he needs to prove himself." Torrhen stated. "He'll do battle."

"That makes no sense." Davos shook his head.

"Neither does flaying your King and Queen." Cregan Glenmore growled.

Torrhen clenched his fist at the reminder. "Northerners value strength. Hiding behind strong walls won't show that. The siege will maybe be needed afterwards, but prepare to do battle beforehand, Your Grace."

Stannis was thinking, and after a while he nodded. "We'll attack from two points. Lord Stark, you attack from the South after the Stormlanders engage first. Stay out of sight until you hear battle raging and then charge. Let them think we couldn't come to terms and that they have an easy victory, before you smash their rear."

Torrhen grinned. "Aye, we'll cut off their escape back to the castle too. Squeeze them in between our lines."

"Once we destroy the army, we will start a siege. Cower them into submission. With any luck Roose Bolton will be killed in the battle." Stannis said, moving his figures.

"What if we don't need a siege." Cregan said cryptically.

"What do you mean?" Davos asked.

Cregan turned to Torrhen. "You told me about when you retook Winterfell from the Greyjoys, could that work again?"

Torrhen thought. "If the tunnel is still hidden then it might." He said.

"A tunnel? Into Winterfell?" Davos asked.

"Aye." Torrhen nodded. "A way known only to Stark's, and will only be known to Stark's."

"How are we meant to trust you won't turn on us, if you don't trust us in return." Stannis asked, annoyed.

Torrhen shook his head, but realised he needed to offer something. "Ser Davos can go, with ten of your men. Cregan can join us with twenty Northerners, and Lord Umber can lead the Northern assault…"

"You will lead the assault, Lord Stark." Stannis said. "You command your men well, that much is for certain, and you are the only Northerner that I know will follow me."

"I'm the only one…" Torrhen began.

"I know who your little squire is." Stannis said, staring into a candle. "Your sister knows the path, yes?"

Torrhen clenched his teeth. "She is a squire in name only. She isn't ready for combat…"

"I have seen a wild wolf tear at the kennel bars and break her kin free." Melisandre said cryptically. "The young Stark is ready."

"Are we to believe the visions of a witch?" Torrhen laughed. "One that murdered your own brother?"

"Sheathe your tongue, Lord Stark. Lady Melisandre has proved her loyalty more times than any other." Stannis said sternly. "You shall have Ser Davos and ten of my men, but you are to lead the Northern Army. Lady Arya shall be in no immediate danger behind thirty men when the battle is outside the walls."

Torrhen wasn't happy, but nodded his agreement. "Your Grace." He said unhappily.

"Leave me." Stannis said, and Torrhen and Cregan both bowed hastily before leaving the tent.

"Why are we following him again?" Cregan asked.

Torrhen sighed. "To go home."

* * *

Preparations and further war planning went on for a week, as siege weapons were being built and the Northerners taught the Southern forces about surviving in the Northern weather. Torrhen and Arya had been training almost relentlessly, so that he knew his sister would be ready. She was, but Torrhen didn't want to admit it.

"Again." He said, getting up off the floor again after Arya had knocked him down.

"I'm ready!" She cried. "How many times do I need to beat you before you realise that."

"As many as it takes for you to not feel overconfident." Torrhen argued. "You're a good fighter, sister, but you need to appreciate the thought that you aren't invincible."

Nodding, Arya twirled her sword once more before settling into a fighting stance. Torrhen was about to do the same when he saw Ser Davos walking with Shireen Baratheon holding a book next to him, coming towards them. Arya turned around and noticed too, grinning at Torrhen.

"Quiet you." Torrhen warned, before he sheathed his weapon and straightened his hair slightly.

"Lord Stark. Princess Shireen would like to walk around the camp with you." Davos said.

Nodding, Torrhen turned to Arya. "Go and find Lady Mormont, she will continue your training." Arya looked like she was about to complain, but the look from Torrhen cut her off. The girl walked away, leaving Torrhen alone with the Baratheon Princess and Ser Davos.

"Princess. I apologise for not coming to greet you sooner." Torrhen said, taking her hand and placing a kiss upon it.

"I understand." Shireen nodded. "These are difficult times, and this is your home. You must spend every minute preparing."

Torrhen offered his arm to her, and she graciously accepted. They began walking, with Davos a few paces behind. "I imagine that this is rather strange to you, the severity of the snow." Torrhen tried to start up conversation.

Shireen nodded. "We never really got snow on Dragonstone. I'm not sure I like it."

Torrhen chuckled. "One of my first memories is of the last snow storm of the last winter. Bran was being delivered by Maester Luwin, and my Father took Robb, Sansa, Jon and myself up to the tallest part of the castle, just to let us play in the snow while my Mother gave birth. It was worse than this now, but we felt safe with him standing with us, playing too."

Shireen smiled softly. "He sounds like a good man."

"He was." Torrhen sighed. "It is my hope that I can make you feel as safe when you are in Winterfell."

Shireen shrugged. "I do not know what is to happen. If I am to be Father's only child then I presume I'll be expected to remain in King's Landing to learn from him."

Torrhen let out a laugh. "This betrothal certainly isn't overly ideal then is it, with us being required hundreds of miles away from one another."

"Unless I name you my Hand when I come into the throne." Shireen chuckled. "I know the role cost Lord Eddard his life, but I've just read about your ancestor…"

"Lord Cregan." Torrhen interrupted.

"Yes." Shireen said. "He took the role after the Dance of the Dragons, and only stayed for a day."

"He is my hero." Torrhen admitted. "Before the library burnt down there were books of his deeds spanning a whole aisle, I've looked up to his example since I could read. Robb always preferred the Southern knights, I was always the Northerner at heart."

The pair continued walking and chatting about the deeds of Torrhen's ancestor, and managed to make it around half of the camp before an Umber soldier found them.

"I'm sorry to interrupt milord, milady, but we've captured Bolton men."

Torrhen dropped Shireen's arm immediately. "How many?"

"20 or so." The soldier shrugged. "A few died in the skirmish, but we've captured most of them."

Nodding, Torrhen turned to Ser Davos. "Inform the King, I shall meet him there."

"Aye, come Princess." Davos said.

Torrhen kissed her hand again. "I hope we can take another walk around Winterfell soon, when I am in my castle."

Shireen nodded, and walked off with Davos, leaving Torrhen free to race towards the makeshift prison section of the Umber camp. Torrhen saw the Greatjon standing over one of the prisoners.

"Talk, I promise you, I am a lot nicer than Lord Stark will be when he gets here." Umber said. Torrhen nodded, and played along.

"Lord Umber, I hope you aren't being too easy on this scum."

"Of course not, My Lord." Umber said, stepping aside. Torrhen scowled at the face of the prisoner.

"Ramsay Snow." He growled. "Good work, Lord Umber."

As he had been recognised, Ramsay began to talk. "Stark." He wheezed. "Going to run away again?"

Torrhen shook his head. "You're finally going to pay for what you did." He snarled. Clenching his fist, he threw it forcefully into the side of Ramsay's face. "For Ethan." He cried, punching Ramsay again twice. "For Elissa. For Arthur!" With a final punch, he screamed the name of his former betrothed, who Ramsay had flayed alive just to send him a message. "FOR TALIA!"

Ramsay was bleeding, and Torrhen knelt down to be level with the bastard. "You will die, bastard. Your head will be thrown at your Father's feet as he realises his House will die with him."

Ramsay grinned, blood dripping from his mouth. "I have another sibling on the way, Stark. You wouldn't kill an unborn babe, would you."

"To rid the world of all Boltons, I would gladly kill a Frey." Torrhen whispered coldly.

Ramsay laughed painfully. "But what will you do when you find out that my wife, Lady Sansa, is pregnant."

Torrhen's face fell, before scrunching up in a glare. "Sansa is dead. You lie."

Ramsay laughed manically. "She is my wife, as seen by the Old Gods themselves. We are kin, you and I."

Torrhen stood, peering down at Ramsay Snow. "You are nothing but a bastard. If what you say is true, then she made that oath with a knife to her throat. An oath made with a knife to the throat is no oath the Gods will hold her too."

Placing a final kick in Ramsay's chest, he turned to the Greatjon. "Find me a block. They all die by my hand."

The Greatjon nodded, and found an execution block. Torrhen rounded up the remaining prisoners, leaving Ramsay till last. Head after head was severed, before it was just Ramsay left. Letting the Greatjon throw him onto the block, Torrhen stood over him about to start the words, before Stannis arrived.

"What is the meaning of this." He demanded.

"This is Ramsay Snow, bastard son of Roose Bolton." Torrhen exclaimed. "He is to die."

"By who's authority?" Stannis called.

"By mine!" Torrhen roared.

"A word, Lord Stark." Stannis said bitterly.

Ramsay began to laugh again. "Run to your master, dog." He called, Torrhen just turned and kicked him as hard as he could in the face before walking to Stannis.

"Has he had a trial?" Stannis asked. "Have you discussed his value towards Roose Bolton?"

Torrhen laughed bitterly. "Roose Bolton values him as no more than a dog to do his bidding. His value is nothing. He confessed to the murder of numerous people the last time I spoke to him, and is responsible for the near eradication of House Forrester. I will have my justice, Your Grace."

"You're letting your emotions get the better of you." Stannis said.

"Of course I am!" Torrhen exclaimed. "This man, he is part of the reason that I have no home. He flayed my betrothed for nothing more than to send me a message! He would do the same to the Princess if he got a chance. His head is mine."

Stannis looked to Davos, who nodded. "Lord Rodrik and Lord Ryon Forrester are the only two of the House still alive, they place the blame at this man's feet. Give Lord Torrhen his justice, and you shall have a staunch supporter."

Torrhen agreed. "I swear I will follow you all the way to King's Landing, taking castle by castle in your name if you give me this. This man is a plague upon us all. Let me end him."

Stannis looked towards the prisoner, still being held down by the Greatjon. "You have been accused of these crimes, what do you say in your defence?"

Ramsay grinned. "Her screams were delicious, let me show you. Give me the Princess."

Stannis' mind was made up, and his Red Woman appeared at his ear. "Give him to me, he is of Red King blood, he can be of use."

Torrhen shook his head. "This bastard has committed crimes against the North, he is of the North. He should be executed in Northern style. If you burn him I can't promise my men will remain loyal to you."

Stannis turned angrily. "You would break faith."

Torrhen stood his ground though. "Not me. I swore an oath and I will not break it, but I remember what happened to the last King who used fire as his method of execution. I may not have known them, but my Grandfather and Uncle still remain in many of these men's memories. Do that, and you'd be no better than Aerys in their eyes."

"Their way is the old way, Your Grace." Davos said. "It is but one man."

"If we capture Roose Bolton alive, I won't argue for him." Torrhen promised. "He murdered my brother, but you can have him for your fire."

Stannis nodded. "Very well. Have your beheading, but this is the last time you shall dictate anything to me."

Torrhen narrowed his eyes. "Your Grace." Turning, he unsheathed his sword. "Ramsay Snow. In the name of Stannis, of the House Baratheon. I, Torrhen. Rightful Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, do sentence you to die. May you rot in all the Seven Hells." Taking a step back, he swung his sword down, severing the head. Feeling relief, he kicked the body down, and let Stannis take control.

"Burn the body, tar the head and spike it." The King ordered. "We ride for Winterfell in the morning."

* * *

The army of 6,000 Southerners were lined up in formation waiting for the Bolton forces. Torrhen's men were further southwards, waiting for the Stark to arrive before they charged. Stannis had sent word for a parlay beforehand, although Torrhen expected nothing from it.

They saw a few Bolton men on horses riding alone, and so Stannis galloped forwards, followed by Torrhen and a Stormlord Torrhen didn't know. Slowing down as they got closer, Torrhen halted his horse. He could see Roose Bolton and Harrion Karstark, but didn't recognise the large figure to Roose's left.

"Lord Bolton." Stannis began. "Surrender now and bend the knee to your rightful King."

"Tommen Baratheon is my rightful King, and your nephew." Roose answered calmly. "It should be you dismounting and bending to him."

"The boy is the incestuous spawn of the Kingslayer." Stannis countered. "No nephew of mine."

Roose shook his head. "And as Warden of the North to Tommen Baratheon, it is my duty to halt invasions from usurpers and exiled Houses. I see House Stark has thrown in the last of its weight with you. A foolish error, Lord Stannis."

"The only error was when you betrayed your liege lord and flayed him alive for a power grab." Torrhen smirked. "You should have realised that your actions would backfire."

"Robb Stark was a traitor to the crown. I was only performing my duty." Roose stated. "As I shall again by presenting the Queen Regent with all of your heads."

"One last chance, Lord Bolton." Stannis said.

"You're wasting your breath." Roose told him, before turning to Torrhen. "Stand down and pronounce me as your Liege Lord, and I shall allow your sister to live."

Torrhen shook his head amusedly. "You underestimate her. As you underestimate me." He reached into the bag at his side and threw the tarred head of Ramsay towards Bolton. "He told me all about Sansa after I told him how your line will end with you."

Roose, to his credit, was calm. "Ramsay was a fool, as are you both." With that he turned away, as Karstark and the other man followed him.

"We charge immediately." Stannis said. "I hope your plan works for your sake."

Torrhen nodded. "We've given them time and kept eyes on us. Arya will be in."

"Go now then." Stannis commanded. "Take their rear."

"Your Grace." Torrhen nodded, before riding off.

* * *

Arya pushed her way through the shrubbery and stopped for a minute to take in the Winterfell Godswood. The snow was falling steadily, and Arya found herself moving towards the Weirwood tree.

"Lady Arya." Cregan Glenmore said from behind her. "We can take it all in when we've rescued Lady Sansa."

Arya nodded, slowly unsheathing her sword. Davos came through the shrubbery then, and looked around. "There should only be a small garrison, but make your arrows count." He ordered. "We want to keep our presence here quiet."

"Lord Hand." The archers nodded, and Cregan nocked an arrow, crouching down as he moved.

"Lady Arya, follow me." He whispered, as Arya nodded and followed.

They peered through the gateway to see a host of activity on the ramparts. Cregan got his archers into rows of three, stepping behind one another.

"Pick your targets, and take them out." He told them. Arya had heard from Torrhen that the archers of Rillwater Crossing were exceptional, but seeing them move into action was incredible.

"Loose." Cregan whispered, as three arrows zoomed away, striking their targets suddenly. The three men moved out the way, and the next wave followed.

This continued, until they looked to have been spotted. Davos nudged Arya to follow him, and the two shrunk away from the archers as swords were drawn, and they escaped into the Great Keep.

Running stealthily, the pair made their way to through the Keep up towards Sansa's chambers. Testing the door, they found it was locked. Davos was getting ready to break the door down, but Arya stopped him.

"No, wait." She whispered. Placing one hand against the door, she rapped it five times in a tune that Torrhen told her about. Nothing happened, so Arya tried again. This time, three knocks came from the other side of the door.

"It's Arya." Arya whispered harshly. "Stand back." Nodding to Davos, the man sheathed his sword and began to kick the door in, eventually snapping the lock and letting the door fly inwards. Arya looked and saw the red hair of Sansa in the corner.

"Arya…" Sansa whispered, and Arya just ran towards her, catching her in a fierce embrace.

"Torrhen's here too, outside. We need to go to the Godswood now." Arya explained.

Sansa looked bemused, but nodded. Taking point, she took them through the Keep and out onto the ramparts. Arya looked down and saw the Glenmore men carving through the Bolton defenders easily, and grinned.

Sansa stopped suddenly, as a lady with a bow stood in front of them. "Miranda." She said.

"Lady Bolton." Miranda said. "You shouldn't be here."

"Stand aside girl." Davos said. "You don't want to do this now."

"Lord Ramsay didn't give you leave to exit your chambers." Miranda said, ignoring Davos. "He's going to be very disappointed in you."

Arya took Sansa's hand in her own, noticing the woman in bronze armour sneaking up behind the archer. Recognising the Tarth sigil, she remembered her Mother telling her about the woman in her service tasked with finding Sansa. Waiting for her to be close enough, Arya spoke.

"Move, or else." She said strongly, causing a laugh from the girl.

"Or what? What are you going to do boy?"

Sansa shook her head. "The battle is lost for Ramsay, look." She pointed over the ramparts to where everyone could see the Northern forces crashing into the side of the barely holding Bolton lines.

"Ramsay is dead. Roose Bolton is dying today." Arya said. "Save yourself and move."

Miranda looked devastated at that news. "Then you are no longer useful." She snarled. Arya sprang into action as soon as the Tarth woman did. She barged Sansa away as the arrow pierced the back of her shoulder. She heard the large sword of the Tarth woman swing, as well as the thud of a body hit the floor, but pain filled her senses as she fell to the floor as well.

"Arya! Arya no!" Sansa begged. "Stay with me."

"I'll be fine." She grimaced through the pain. "You're safe?"

Sansa nodded. "I'm safe. Thanks to you."

"Lady Sansa." Brienne spoke, sheathing her sword.

"Lady Brienne? Podrick?" Sansa exclaimed, holding Arya as she took in the newcomers.

"We haven't much time. Come, let us get away…"

"There's no need Lady Brienne." Davos said, noticing Cregan Glenmore coming to meet them. "We've won Winterfell."

"Lady Arya. Winterfell is yours." Cregan said, before realising what had happened. "Medic! Get a medic now!"

* * *

There was nothing like a charge into battle. Torrhen felt like everything was in slow motion, the only sound was that of Balerion's paws slamming into the snow. The Direwolf had been armoured up, and a saddle placed on so that Torrhen could ride him into battle. He wasn't a fan of being a mounted soldier, but he needed to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies.

As they got closer, Torrhen could see Stannis' forces just about holding their own, with the Bolton defences also struggling to stay strong. The tide was turned when the Bolton men realised what was happening however, as part of them turned to form a defence, but it was too late.

Torrhen felt Balerion smash through a number of men, as he swung his sword continuously, swiping through men whenever he could. He jumped off of Balerion as the rest of his men joined in the assault and let the Direwolf have his own fun, as Torrhen and his forces pushed through the Bolton army.

Ducking a sword blow, he used both hands to slash at his enemy's stomach, before bringing the sword up to open his chest, being coated in blood and bone in the process. He couldn't rest though, as another sword came for his head. Parrying that blow and kicking out, the Karstark soldier flailed to the ground, and Torrhen finished him off with a sword through the heart. Pulling his blade out, he found a moment to look around.

He noticed the Greatjon cleaving off body parts as he mowed through the Bolton lines. After skilfully dodging an arrow, he was knocked to the floor by the man with Roose Bolton earlier.

"Let it be known that the Black Wolf was ended by Ludd Whitehill!" He roared, before a sword protruded through his fat chest. As Ludd Whitehill dropped to the floor, a scarred woman almost as big as the Smalljon was there to help Torrhen up.

"That's for Asher!" She roared, before going back to the fight. Torrhen joined her, and sliced off a leg of a running Bolton soldier before thrusting his sword into the man's neck to finish him off.

He fought his way to the centre and saw Stannis Baratheon cleave through a large Karstark man. Fighting his way towards him, Torrhen shouted. "We should push to the castle!"

Stannis nodded, and having noticed the battle was basically won, gave the order. Torrhen meanwhile noticed the horse and armour of Roose Bolton riding away over the nearest hill heading towards the castle. Quickly grabbing a bow and two arrows, he called for someone to have his back as he lined up the shot.

Time stood still, and all Torrhen could hear was his breathing. Adjusting for the wind, he breathed outwards a final time before releasing his finger, and watching the arrows fly.

Most of the soldiers just stopped, as they all watched the arrows sail away, and the cheer that went up from the Baratheon/Stark forces was deafening as the arrows plunged through Roose Bolton's back. He fell off his horse, and Torrhen relaxed.

Dropping to his knees, he looked up into the sky. "Robb, Talisa. That was for you." He said, kissing his hand and holding it skywards.

* * *

The aftermath of the battle was dealt with without Torrhen, as the prisoners were rounded up and Roose Bolton was confirmed to be dead. All Torrhen cared about was entering the castle though. He made his way with Balerion at his side towards the castle gate, and stopped at the wooden barrier. Looking upwards, he saw a Glenmore soldier.

"Open the gates! The battle is won!" He shouted. The gates were then opened, and Torrhen looked around.

Bodies littered the floor, but the men in the courtyard cheering were all wearing Glenmore armour. Torrhen grinned, and shook hands with most of the men as Northerners followed in behind him. He spotted Cregan Glenmore speaking to the Bolton Maester, and made his way over.

"Lord Stark." Cregan said, surprised. "Thank the Gods you're alive."

"It took some effort, but Roose Bolton is dead." Torrhen said. "How were things here, where are my sisters?"

"Lady Sansa is fine, Lady Arya took an arrow in the fight, but she is in no danger now. She is resting in Lady Sansa's chambers." The Maester said. Torrhen didn't respond, but just rushed towards his twin's chambers.

He arrived quickly, and saw that the door was open. Sansa and Arya were laughing about something, and Torrhen just drank the moment in for a few seconds, before performing the knock he and Sansa had been using for as long as they could remember.

As soon as she heard it, Sansa looked towards the door. Torrhen could see the tears forming in her eyes as she got up and ran at him. He held her close, and couldn't hold his own tears back.

"You're safe. You're safe." Torrhen repeated. After the chaos of the last five years, he had his twin in his arms and Winterfell was secured. The future wars could wait, because Torrhen Stark was home.


	7. The Three Eyed Raven

**A bit of fun here, and a look at the world if it was a bit more modernised shall we say. We'll meet Sara, a budding historian from Wintertown who is off on a school trip to the ruins of Winterfell and will have her life changed forever.**

* * *

 **11735 Years After Aegon's Conquest**

Sara was so excited. Her school was the first in the North that were invited into the ruins to see the new excavation site, and as history was her favourite subject she couldn't wait. The long walk from the sprawling city of Wintertown up to the old castle of Winterfell had taken a while, but she was right at the front of her small class as they got to the fences blocking the ruin from public life.

"Who knows who built Winterfell?" Her teacher, Robert asked, and of course, her hand went straight up. "Sara."

"Brandon the Builder almost 20,000 years ago." She answered eagerly. She heard sniggers behind her and calls of geek, but honestly, she didn't care.

"Well done." Robert smiled at her. "And when did it fall into disrepair?"

Her hand went up again, but another classmate was chosen. "Only about 400 years ago."

"Correct Patrek." Robert congratulated. "The history of the castle of Winterfell is a long and bloody one. Countless wars were fought here, and it was sacked and burned almost a dozen times by House Stark's enemies, but it was always rebuilt and always improved upon until that day 400 years ago when nobody truly knows what happens. Now, has everybody done their homework on the Kings of Winter?"

Sara nodded eagerly. They had had to do a small report on one of the past King's or Lords of Winterfell, and she had chosen one of the most divisive. She looked over to her friend Brandon, who of course had chosen one of his namesakes, Brandon the Burner.

"Sara, who have you chosen?" Robert asked.

"The Black Wolf." She said quietly, and the class stopped messing around.

"Interesting." Robert answered. "Why is that?"

Sara looked around at all the eyes on her and suddenly felt very shy. "If you discount the myths and legends around his time, he was one of the most interesting rulers of the House." She told him.

"He's only interesting because he was Cregan the Great's father." One of the popular kids laughed. "Now that's a true King."

The class laughed, and Sara felt herself going red. "Now class." Robert settled them down. "It's well recorded in the tomes of Grandmaester Samwell over at the university of Oldtown that those myths did happen, and that King Torrhen did in fact lay down his life to save humanity."

"But White Walkers? Really sir?" One boy laughed.

"Tell me, Gared. Have you been to the Fist of the First Men?" Robert asked. The boy shook his head. "It's a terrifying, haunted place, but the signs are there. Have you been to Dragonstone to see the ancient cave paintings?" Another shake. "Proof that there was an invasion of White Walkers almost 20,000 years ago. We certainly can't say what happened here in the time of King Torrhen, but he certainly died in battle at Winterfell there is too many sources claiming that. Now come on, we're going to be the first of the public to enter Winterfell in almost 400 years."

They moved into the castle, where rubble was everywhere. The Great Keep still had the first floor that was accessible though and that was where they were going. Robert began to give a lecture on Winterfell's history, but Sara already knew it all from books her Father had handed down to her before he passed. Instead she looked over to the side, where two tattered stone Direwolves sat, guarding an old wooden door.

"Sir, what's over there?" She asked.

Robert looked over. "Good question Sara, the truth is nobody alive truly knows."

"How can they not?" Gared asked. "It's just a door."

"It's a door that won't open." Robert corrected. "You need to have Stark blood to do so, and nobody alive has Stark blood, not since the name died out 500 years ago. Historians have often wondered as to if there is any alive, but not one heir has been found." That intrigued Sara. "I tell you what, I'll give you all 5 minutes to go and try the doors to see if you're the long-lost heir to Winterfell." Robert said as a joke. The class ran over quickly, with each of them trying the door. It wouldn't open for anybody though, not even Brandon who went almost last.

Sara was the last one to try, and not expecting anything, she placed her hand on the handle. To her surprise, it turned.

The door swung open slowly, and it was pitch black inside. Getting her torch out, she peered down and saw only steps.

"Welcome, Sara of House Stark." A voice came from beside her. Sara turned and saw a young man in a wheelchair, covered in fur clothing. She turned to her friends but was horrified to see they had frozen in time. "It is just us two for the moment." The man said, getting up out of the wheelchair and stretching his legs.

"Who are you?" Sara asked.

"I am Brandon, of House Stark." He answered. "Brother to King Torrhen, the Black Wolf."

Sara's eyes opened wide in surprise. "Torrhen Stark lived 11 and a half thousand years ago." She told him.

"As did I." Bran answered.

"Then how… how can this be happening?" Sara asked.

Bran gave a wry smile. "I'm a Greenseer, and I'm the Three Eyed Raven. I can see through time. The past, my present, or my future. You have dreams of things that can't be possible, don't you?" Sara did. Her Father often spoke cryptically of her dreams and asked her to spell them out for him word for word before he died, but she didn't think anything weird of them. "You're a Greenseer, you see things that are yet to be, and your mind travels into other animals, controlling their bodies while you sleep."

Sara looked scared, but his words seemed accurate. "I dreamt I was a dog once. My dog." She whispered.

"You're a Warg as well." Bran told her. "It's in your blood. You are descended through the line of Torrhen Stark. Your ancestors include Cregan the Great, Edwyle the Defiler and most recently Jonothor the Last Wolf. What is hidden in history is that Jonothor had a bastard daughter, who had a family that descends to your Father, and finally you. You are the last ancestor of the ancient House Stark."

Sara was bemused. "No, no I'm just a normal girl from Wintertown with funny dreams. I'm not… I'm not a Stark!"

Bran smiled knowingly. "I understand your concerns, but these doors were magically sealed by Jonothor when he entered the crypts for the last time. Only the blood of House Stark can open them, and it was you opening these that signalled me to this time."

"Where are you now?" Sara asked.

Bran sighed. "The Battle for the Dawn." He answered. "Right now, the Night King and the White Walker's are in the Godswood of Winterfell. Torrhen is about to lay down his life defending me."

Sara felt sorrow. "The Godswood was destroyed hundreds of years ago." Before she shook her head and looked at him suspiciously. "There are no such thing as White Walker's."

Bran smiled and touched Sara on the shoulder. With a white flash she was transported into a woodland area, in the middle of a ring of fire. Bran walked beside her, but he was also sat down in a chair by a giant white tree with a carved face. "That's a Weirwood…" Sara trailed off.

"It is." Bran noted. "And that, is your ancestor. King Torrhen." He pointed to a man in black leather armour, holding a bow. "You want to know all about him for an essay, well I can teach you how to see everything. You can see his life, you can see the life of his son, and his son, and his son afterwards. You will be able to see all that has been, all that is and all that could be."

"How?" Sara asked, as blue eyes appeared through the fire. Her attention was taken by Torrhen quickly firing an arrow through the flames and shattering one of the demons. She jumped back in terror. "What was that?"

"A White Walker. Watch closely, you'll see the Night King soon." Bran explained.

Sara watched on as the head demon stepped forwards and extinguished the flaming circle. "What's happening?" She asked. Bran just had his head bowed in mourning. Sara watched as Torrhen fired an arrow at the Night King and it failed to kill the demon, before he screamed at his men to kill everything else. She started biting her nails as Torrhen engaged with the Night King in a sword fight, and she recognised the sword. "My Dad had one similar to that in his house…" She trailed.

"It's the same blade." Bran explained. "Valyrian Steel."

In awe at that knowledge, her amazement quickly turned to horror as Torrhen was impaled through the stomach. Sara screamed, and the Night King turned to face them both. Bran placed his arm back on her shoulder, and they were transported back to the crypts in her time. "What happened?"

"You'll see another day." Bran told her. "You've awoken your third eye by coming here so I can appear to you and help guide you, although to complete your training you must travel here." He tapped her on the forehead and immediately Sara knew that she had to travel even further North. "I shall see you again soon, Sara of House Stark."

With that, Brandon Stark disappeared, and the bustling noise of her class was heard once more. "Sara! By the Gods you've opened it?" Brandon said in surprise. "Over here! Sara's opened the Crypts!"

Sara shut the door immediately, a nagging feeling in her mind that she shouldn't let everybody down there. "I… I'm a descendant apparently." She whispered to her friend. Robert came over and looked at Sara with concern. "Are you alright?" He asked. She shook her head, and so he turned to the class. "Go and follow our guide into the Great Keep. I'll be with you all in a moment." The class dissipated, and he turned back to Sara. "Why didn't you tell us you were a Stark descendant?"

"I… I didn't know." She whispered. "I'm a Greenseer as well apparently. I just had a vision as I opened the doors. Of Bran the Broken."

Robert's eyes widened in acknowledgement. "He disappeared from Oldtown almost 100 years after the Targaryen Restoration during the reign of Gaemon the Gormless." He remembered. "Nobody knew what happened to him."

Sara stared down at the doors leading to the crypts. "I think I might…"

* * *

 **A few years later**

As soon as her heritage had been proven beyond all doubt Sara was granted the vast wealth that had accumulated from House Stark from the Iron Bank over in Braavos. That thankfully meant that she never had to work a normal job, and as she graduated Sara became a historian, basing her research on those years between Aegon's Conquest and the Summer Islander Invasion of Dorne in 625 AC. Her mind was always drawn Northwards however, and she packed her bags a couple of months after her Mother died and travelled.

Even with the technology of the modern day, it still took a couple of weeks to get to the area that had been ingrained in her mind ever since that day in Winterfell's courtyard, but as soon as she saw the gigantic Weirwood tree, she knew she was here. She saw a cave underneath it and was compelled to go inside.

Snaking through the underground tunnels, she was horrified to see bones of animals and humans mixed together, although her horror turned to wonder as she got to the central room.

The roots of the Weirwood tree formed a sort of Throne, and inside the Throne was the oldest man that Sara had ever seen. She walked over towards him and knelt before the man.

"Cousin." He croaked. "You have come finally."

"This is impossible." Sara whispered. "You lived thousands of years ago."

The man smiled. "Once I was young, and a son of House Stark. Today I am simply the Three Eyed Raven, unable to move from my throne as I keep a watchful eye on the world. But you shall be my successor, Sara of House Stark. You shall have your third eye truly opened and become my successor."


End file.
